Assassin's Creed: Prophecy
by Briar Hecate
Summary: After the events of Assassin's Creed: Odyssey Alexios is doing his best to lead a quiet, normal life. Then news arrives on his shore of impending war and the promise of all-out destruction if he does not slay a mythical warrior. Led by a foreign prince, a mysterious priestess, and a familiar cast of characters Alexios must find this hidden enemy before Greece becomes a memory.
1. Chapter 1

_Let no man be called happy before his death. Till then, he is not happy, only lucky._

\- Solon, Ancient Greek Law Maker

The fight had been long and brutal. Sweat stung his eyes as the blade of his sword met his opponent's over and over again. _Clang. Clang. Clang._

What was once a full battlefield had drained to just the two of them. They had been sparring for what felt like hours. Alexios could feel himself flagging. His muscles ached and joints protested. Ikaros screamed in the distance.

But he had to keep going.

His opponent was dressed in black armour, his face concealed. Alexios did not know who he was, but felt that if the man won, everything would be lost. There were no questions. He needed to win.

The warrior in black thrust his sword at Alexios. The world seemed to slow. He saw a break in the armour, between his neck and breastplate. Without wasting time, Alexios plunged the blade of the sword into the flesh.

The warrior sunk to his knees, falling over.

Gripping his sword handle, Alexios looked around him. The battlefield was indeed deserted. Swords, bits of bronze and iron, arrows, and puddles of blood dotted the landscape.

As he turned, he caught the sight of something strange in the distance. He squinted his eyes. It was a young woman, dressed in bright blue robes. She raised a hand to him.

When he tried to reciprocate the greeting, an intense pain ripped through his abdomen. Looking down, he saw a sword protruding from his belly, piercing straight through his golden breastplate.

Alexios fell to his knees, watching blood pour from the wound.

A pair of black greaves blocked his line of vision. It was the dark warrior. Alexios looked up at the man, who stared down at him, head cocked unnaturally to one side, the gash oozing pus and maggots.

'H-help,' Alexios choked out, but the man did nothing.

After a moment, the warrior began removing his helmet. Alexios reached a hand up to him.

The helmet dropped to the ground with a loud thud. As Alexios' eyes adjusted, he saw his own face staring back at him.

Alexios woke to the sound of his own yell.

Taking a moment to slow his heartbeat, he fisted his hands into the bedclothes, reminding himself that he was, in fact, in his bed and not on the battlefields of some far-flung island. He planted his feet firmly on the cool stone floor and then stood, walking to the windowsill. Opening the shutters he hung his head outside, drawing in long breaths of the cool night air.

When he first arrived back to Kephallonia with Kassandra and his mother in tow, the dreams had been brutal and persistent. But after a few months they'd lessened and a year on he hardly found himself dreaming. And if he did, he'd forget it soon after.

But this one had been different. It was vivid.

There was a stain of orange beginning to show across the ocean, bruising the sky a deep purple colour. Alexios had chosen this room because he enjoyed waking up with the sun.

He found that keeping a strict routine was the best way to ease himself back into good society. He was a Spartan by blood, afterall. Besides, what else was a man to do after a few years of philandering, pillaging, adventuring, and killing? So, he purchased a small olive grove on this quiet island and had begun pressing olive oil.

It was not far from his old, decaying residence. The farmhouse was large enough to accommodate his mother and Kassandra, but they'd both declined to somewhere else. Myrinne preferred city life and Kassandra did not yet have her fill of travel, wine, and women.

He hired one farmhand and kept it simple. Strabo was an old man from Ithaka and skilled in such things. He taught Alexios how to use the press and husband a small herd of sheep.

It was a dull life, and in truth, Alexios didn't need the _drachmae_. But for the first time in a long time, he had a sense of satisfaction at the end of each day. He reckoned most people referred to that as happiness.

Alexios shivered as he recalled the warrior in black taking off his helmet, the maggots dropping from the putrefied gash. He shook his head to rid himself of the image, readying himself to wash and get ready for the day ahead.

Before he left the sill, he head Phobos nicker from the pasture beneath the window. Looking out over the small inlet, he saw a tiny rowboat pulling up on the shoreline. Beyond that, a gilded ship with red sails waited patiently on the calm water.

* * *

Eudora ran through the streets, dodging vendors, shoppers, and stray dogs. She was late again for the noon prayers and Media would not be pleased. Huffing, she pulled her headscarf tightly against her hair and began elbowing people out of the way. Delphi was thrumming with activity.

'Appeared to him in the fields…'

'The prince has made a large offering to the Pythia…'

'Must see the oracle…'

There had been rumors bouncing from person to person all morning. She had let herself become distracted by falsified truths and now she was in store for the worst kinds of temple chores as punishment. Or was the story truly gossip? One could never be sure in Delphi, where it seemed the mountains placed them closer to the gods by virtue. The supposed account of the goddess Athena appearing the young Prince of Cyrene seemed too incredible to be true. Eudora felt a pang of jealousy. How was it that a small handful of people on this earth were blessed with fame, fortune, and the love of the gods? While she, a lowborn, but devoted, priestess, had never had one measly supernatural encounter to gloat about.

Well… maybe not quite a priestess… more like a priestess in waiting. She served mainly as a handmaid to the Pythia and hoped that in doing so, she would be able to maintain a close relationship with the god Apollo. Perhaps then she would be able to decode her own strange visions, eerie dreams which sometimes showed her the future. But the longer she stayed at the temple, the more it seemed like Apollo… and all the other Olympians for that matter, did not care for lowly amateur priestesses.

'Get out of the way!'

Eudora tripped into a gully beside the road just in time for a horse to brush past her. It felt like the wind had been punched out of her lungs and she gasped out a breath.

'You alright there miss?' asked a kindly young shepherd. He hauled Eudora to her feet, helping her brush some of the dirt off her sky blue tunic. 'Better to stay off the roads when such officious men are about. He'll feel very foolish when he finds out he ran a priestess of Apollo into a ditch!'

Eudora thanked him with a smile and wave of her of hand, setting off at a flat run down the road. She hiked the impractically long tunic up and over her calves, feeling her sandals bite into her skin. She had a hunch that the prince wanted to consult with the Pythia.

Now she _really_ was in trouble.

The prince was becoming a small dot in the distance. She pumped her legs faster, though people generally gave her a wide berth when they saw a Daughter of Apollo pelting toward the temple. The ruckus she was causing would surely make its way to Media's ears.

Eudora brushed that thought aside. The temple was in view now and she ran up the steps, her sandals slapping against the marble floors.

A powerful hand stopped her in one swift motion, causing Eudora to nearly somersault into the sanctum.

'Where have you been!' Media asked, her voice deadly low. 'The Prince of Cyrene has come to seek counsel, he has already been in with the Pythia for five minutes!'

She walked Eudora roughly along the columned porticoes, to the secret door where the Pythia was held. 'Go in, she is waiting for you'.

Ducking her head, she entered the small vestibule, barely large enough for two women. Hero was sitting on the bench, her long black hair bound around the crown of her head in tight braids. Her brow was furrowed as she spoke. 'One nation will rise and another will fall…' she said, pitching her voice higher in an effort to sound more regal.

She motioned to Eudora to join her, her eyes widening in urgency.

'That is no good Pythia! I need a firm answer! I have paid alms to Apollo! How am I to defeat the threat of another invasion?'

Immediately, Eudora remembered her dream.

Looking at Hero, she began to sign, moving her fingers as quickly as possible.

 _You must seek…_

Eudora forgot the word for warrior; panicking for a moment she mimed slashing someone with a sword.

'A renowned fighter,' Hero relayed.

'But how will I know it is him?'

Eudora went back to signing. _He has an eagle_.

'He carries an eagle, a gift to him from the great god Zeus. As is befitting of a King.'

Eudora rolled her eyes at Hero's exaggeration. The man in her dream certainly did not seem like such an aristocrat.

'I think… I know who you speak of,' the prince said.

'Then take my counsel and may the gods have mercy on you,' Hero said, preparing to slide the latch shut over the hole and end the session.

Eudora frantically signed at her.

'O-one moment-' Hero said, looking intently at Eudora's hands. 'This man you seek. You must find him as quickly as possible, as your enemies are in pursuit of him. There is the potential for him to be corrupted, and he may work against your cause.'

'Thank you, great Pythia!' the prince said, though Eudora could hear that he was nearly down the great hall, his voice echoing off of the columns.

Hero shut the small window with the latch and leaned against the stone bench. 'Well that was unexpected!'

Eudora nodded in agreement, sinking back against the wall until she sat down.

'Is Media cross with you? I told her that you were visiting your mother! How could you have known the prince would ride into the temple and demand a meeting?'

At that, Hero burst out laughing and Eudora smiled. As far as anyone knew, Eudora was the only one who could foresee future events. All of the other priestesses at the temple pretended. But Eudora's gifts had made the temple rich again, and the Pythia's prophesies the respected sacrament they once were.

It was a well-kept secret amongst the women. All priestesses of Apollo, especially the heralded Pythia, were supposed to have the gift.

'Come, I'm sure the prince was generous with alms after such a prophecy. I think we deserve some honey cakes and tea,' Hero said, reaching for Eudora's hand.

The two women exited the warm little room into the afternoon sunshine. The heat of the day was just beginning to abate. Hero readjusted her headscarf to demurely cover her hair. They both sighed as a cool breeze billowed through their long blue robes.

Eudora did her best not to be jealous… but it could be hard at times. Hero seemed perfectly blessed in every way. She was young, beautiful, smart, and most importantly, from a well-connected family who donated generously to the temple every year.

She played her role as Pythia with a refinement none of the other priestesses had. Her voice was soft and musical. Eudora often dreamed of speaking like Hero, dispensing counsel to the great men of Greece.

But the daughter of a poor farmer and midwife would certainly never sit on the Pythia's bench. It simply was not done. Even if she could foretell the future.

As if she were reading her thoughts, Hero took Eudora's arm in hers as she steered her toward the priestesses' residence. 'Media will certainly have to reward us with something! Maybe a new copper headband for me… and one of silver for your beautiful golden hair,' she said, tugging on one of Eudora's escaped curls.

 _With matching bracelets._

'And matching men to bring them to us,' Hero said with a wink.

'What are you two prattling on about?' Media asked in her severe way. Though not a priestess herself, Media was so curt and prudish that she might have been. The old woman managed the temple archives, daily business, and the young women with a shrewd eye. Eudora supposed that the woman had been eighty years old for the past two decades.

'Oh just the lovely things you are going to give Eudora and I when you sort out the prince's donation,' Hero explained brashly, not bothering to stop walking.

'You'd best hope the prophecy holds. The prince has already begun assembling the lords of the mainland, not unlike Agamemnon.'

'Your old tales bore us Media,' Hero said. 'Who cares about war and fighting when we can enjoy a nice cup of tea and something sweet? I am famished, what about you, Eudora?'

Eudora nodded her head enthusiastically. Regarding them for a moment, Media snapped her fingers at one of the temple servants. 'Your priestesses are hungry, bring them something suitable.'

Eudora's smile faded as she spotted something at the end of the portico, swiftly marching toward them.

'My dear?' asked Hero, but Eudora could not answer.

It was the man in black armour, from her dream this morning. The edges of her vision became hazy as he strode directly toward her, black helmet concealing his features. There was the hiss of his sword being pulled from his scabbard.

Before long he was close enough to kiss. She could feel his breath on her nose. She peered up at him. His eyes held no pupils, but were instead black. All black.

Brandishing his sword, he plunged it into her abdomen. Blood puttered from her lips, onto the temple floor. She fell, holding her hand against her stomach, trying to hold her entrails in.

'It is a fugue,' she heard Media whisper, but it was like she was underwater.

'Come back to us,' Hero commanded, but the soft, musical lit of hers was getting further and further away.

'Come back.'


	2. Chapter 2

_Know thyself_

\- Aphorism inscribed above the temple of Apollo at Delphi

'No.'

The captain was staring at him, slack-jawed. Clearly, it was not a word he heard often. 'Perhaps if…' the man began again.

'That is final. I thank you for coming this way, but I left that life behind. If your crew wanted to buy olive oil, they're welcome to it.'

'I don't think you understand the kind of opportunity you are refusing. And our leader will not take kindly to it, Eagle Bearer.'

Alexios had been patient. He'd been up since the bleeding crack of dawn speaking to this man and, if his stomach was any indication, it was well into mid-morning. Though they were standing next to a shady oak near the paddock Alexios could feel himself begin to sweat. This summer had been particularly brutal. The heat did not help his temper.

'I believe you've just threatened a man, standing on his own doorstep no less. The gods won't take kindly to that either,' Alexios said through clenched teeth.

The captain put his gold helmet firmly on his head, the blue plumage standing stock still in the oppressive heat. No breeze came off the water today. It would be nearly unbearable to work at noon. Alexios would call the workers off and go for a swim instead.

He offered the captain a tight smile, gesturing to a red _pithoi_ filled with olive oil that leaned against the side of the white-washed mud brick. 'For your trouble,' Alexios offered.

The captain's grip tightened around the shaft of his spear. 'I am under strict orders, Eagle Bearer.'

Alexios heard a few pebbles hit the stone walkway. Looking up, he saw an archer perched high on his roof, arrow knocked and ready. Out of the corner of his eye he sensed movement. From high above, Ikaros whistled.

He sighed in frustration. 'If you had a few more men, it would make it a fair fight.'

'We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. Choice is yours.' The captain lifted the spear and began walking toward him.

With a loud _whoosh_ above their heads, both men looked aloft. Alexios thanked the gods his bird was fast. Ikaros hooked his long talons into the captain's face, causing him to scream loudly.

Alexios wasted no time. He rushed forward, grabbing the man's spear off the ground. He grunted as an arrow whistled past his ear, taking a bit of skin with it. Turning on his heel he threw the spear as hard as he could. It hit its mark and the archer fell with a cry of pain.

An Athenian solider rushed around the side of the house, sword at the ready. Alexios reached for his belt out of habit, realizing, with a sinking feeling, that he was completely unarmed.

Another arrow, slicing through the hot air, took the solider down, clean through the neck.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw a man dressed in colours he did not recognize.

'Quite a display!' a young man said, emerging from a copse of twisted olive trees. 'It must feel good, to weald a spear with such mastery. I can imagine you miss it.'

Alexios was afraid to admit that. It had felt good. It had felt _right_.

The young man was dressed in a common, tailored tunic under an iron breastplate, but Alexios noted the golden gauntlets and well-crafted greaves he wore. His dark face was wicked in sweat. He seemed to be the captain of the small guard.

'Here to buy olive oil?' Alexios asked.

'I would take some with bread, if you don't mind. We have been riding all morning.'

Alexios nodded, but when he turned to lead the men indoors he heard a muffled squawk.

'Look!' One of the foreign archers was pointing to an animal fumbling in the dry branches of a shrub. Alexios approached it carefully. Squinting his eyes, he thought he spied a bird.

'Ikaros!' he said, pulling thorny branches away.

The eagle cried out weakly as he freed him from the bush. An arrow had pieced cleanly through one of his wings. 'No, no,' Alexios mumbled, smoothing down Ikaros' feathers.

'You really are an Eagle Bearer,' the Captain said from behind him.

'I must…' Alexios began, but he was unsure of what to say.

'There is a medic on my ship. And one of the priestesses I've heard, is skilled with herbs and remedies.'

Ikaros squawked again and struggled in his arms.

'Okay,' Alexios said, striding toward a free horse. 'Which way down the road?'

* * *

Hero's seasickness had finally subsided after a few rough days of travel by trireme. Eudora, however, had taken to it like a proverbial fish in water. That girl always had an air of something otherworldly about her, and while Hero heaved her guts into a basket Eudora slept soundly beside her, waking with the dawn and eating three hearty meals a day.

Even the Prince's soldiers regarded her with a certain weariness. They stayed well out of her way when she went above deck to take in the salty air and the murmured about the strange priestess in their clunky Greek dialect. Some called her witch.

Hero was surprised by her cheerful mood. Though Eudora was nearly always amicable, she seemed particularly happy to be far and away from Delphi.

What had she seen in that fever dream?

Hero often wondered. She'd tried to coax it out of her, but Eudora politely refused each time, or changed the subject, signing something about the different types of sea birds, or the weather that day. She supposed in these situations, being mute was an advantage.

Hero slowly rose from her small sleeping palette. They had spent the morning docked on a tiny backwater island somewhere in the wilds of Greece. Peering out of a porthole, she saw a giant statue of Zeus, outlined by the sun, ready to strike his thunderbolt into the waiting Earth. Islanders were a strange breed. Sighing, she sat back down on the palette.

She also found herself pondering how in Hades she'd come to be sleeping in little more than a broom closet on the Prince of Cyrene's ship.

She supposed she could blame that one on Eudora. In the midst of her fugue she had cried out for the Prince. Not in her voice. Though Hero herself had never heard Eudora speak, she could not imagine her having a heavy intonation, quite like a man's.

A figure began to speak through her, writhing and calling for the Prince, explaining that the Dark One was after him, chasing him on. And that the fabled fighter was located in Kephallonia. And that they needed to reach him. Quickly.

Well, she wasn't going to let Eudora go alone, was she?

The sound of footsteps broke her out of her reverie. There was a soft knock at the door.

'Yes?'

Eudora's golden head peaked out from behind it. Her eyes were wide with excitement. She gestured for Hero to follow her.

* * *

It was the man from her dream. And Eudora had been right; there was nothing kingly, or aristocratic about him.

His skin was bronzed from working outside and scars crisscrossed up his arms, the shiny flesh reflecting in the sunlight. It seemed paradoxical that those arms, that had killed and injured so many, should be holding that raptor so gently.

'Is there a doctor?' he asked, to no one in particular.

'Trained by Hippocrates himself,' an older, bearded man replied, stepping forward.

'It is an arrow wound,' Alexios explained.

Eudora found herself walking forward. A small group had gathered around the pair. The bird screeched as it eyed the unfamiliar people. 'Leave us,' the medic commanded as he led the warrior up to the observation deck. Eudora meant to give them space, but something was urging her closer.

Lifting the skirt of her tunic she rushed off to the room she shared with Hero. 'Eudora?' Hero whispered as she dashed away.

There were not many things in this world a poor farmer's daughter owned. She cherished an old leather bag that once belonged to her mother. When she was visiting her those weeks ago, her mother had filled it with the usual herbal accouterments. She slung the long strap over her shoulder and climbed the stairs to the observation deck.

The feeling was tense on deck, the crew keeping their heads down, doing their best to find tasks to keep themselves busy. Hero was standing at the bottom of the stairs, arms folded across her chest.

Eudora rushed past her, taking the stairs two at a time. She strode over to where the two men were huddled, crouching down next to them. The medic was wielding a long, thin silver instrument that looked like a nimble pair of shears.

'I must say, what luck I have using this for the first time on an animal and not a man! Excellent practice.'

The warrior gave the medic a withering look. He did not speak after that. Eudora knelt beside the medic. The bird thrashed as he lifted the shears toward the wound.

'Stop, Ikaros,' the warrior commanded, but the bird continued to wriggle, opening and closing its long talons, sharp as any spearhead.

Eudora had an idea. She placed her hand gently on the medic's, indicating that he should stop. The old man nearly jumped from the contact. 'By the gods, my lady, I did not see you there!' he said, wiping sweat from his brow.

The warrior looked over at her, cocking his head to one side as he studied her. She offered a timid smile.

Then, though it was terribly indecent, she removed her headscarf. She had seen her father use this trick when the mourning doves were being uncooperative. She was not sure if it would work, but it was at least worth a try.

Eudora leaned over the bird, slowly covering its head with the blue material. It was a thin garment, so she wrapped it loosely in layers to ensure it blocked out the worst of the sunlight. Sure enough, the bird calmed.

At that moment, everyone's shoulders seemed to sag a little. The medic regarded her. 'What a clever thing you are!' he said with a laugh. 'Dumb as a post, but clever… yes, I will give you that.'

 _Dumb_. How she hated that word. Mute was bad, but dumb made her feel positively ashamed. In spite of the noonday sun she could feel colour rising to her cheeks. The warrior said nothing.

Using the shears, the medic pulled the arrow through the eagle's great wing, completing its intended journey. He did not sew any skin back together, instructing that it needed time to bleed. Instead he removed her headscarf and packed up the wound with gauze. When Eudora opened her pack of herbs, the medic waved her off calling the medicine 'poppycock'.

And just as abruptly as everything began, it ended. The medic was called to care for someone who'd nearly sawed through their own hand with a sword.

Eudora turned to head below deck, but a voice stopped her.

'Those might be useful,' the warrior told her, pointing to her pack.

Eudora reached in, pulling out some herbs to show him. She crushed them between her fingers and held them up for him to smell. Leaning in closer, the warrior took in the spicy aroma. He leaned away from her suddenly, sneezing over the railing of the deck.

'Those are…' he began, wiping his eyes, 'powerful.'

Eudora took that as consent. She hiked up her tunic once more to crouch down again by the bird, who had since shuffled up and was standing on its powerful talons. Eudora was fond of animals. She used to help her father pull lambs, nursing the ones who lost mothers, before she was sent to the temple. Those were good days.

 _Easy, you dangerous thing_ , she thought to herself, reaching for it. To her surprise the raptor did not seem too bothered by her.

'You might want to be careful, he can be-'

But she was stroking the soft down of its underbelly. The raptor inched closer and soon she was running her hands over the stiff feathers of its wings.

 _There, you are not so frightening afterall._

* * *

Alexios watched her in amazement.

It was twofold. Firstly, he was almost certain that was the woman in his dream this morning. Secondly, he had never seen Ikaros act so affectionately with another person. He wondered if he'd not truly woken up this morning and instead it was all some strange dream.

'Odd, isn't it?' It was the captain from earlier. 'Animals are more likely to recognize the presence of the gods. More so than us, anyway.'

Alexios turned to face him. 'Who are you?'

The man smiled. 'It's been very hectic and it is not even midday.' He gestured down the stairs. 'Can I offer you some wine and bread for your trouble?'

'I'd rather know what I'm about to be getting myself into. I'm not used to having men show up at my door trying to kill me…' he paused, 'lately.'

'I've heard stories of you Eagle Bearer…' the man began. 'I am in need of help.'


	3. Chapter 3

_Everything flows, and nothing abides, everything gives way, and nothing stays fixed._

-Heraclitus

Alexios could no longer ignore his stomach. He agreed to sit down with the peculiar man who'd saved his life and then Ikaros'. They took a simple meal of sausage and cheese pastries, washing it down with fine wine from Chios. The man had pulled up two stools and flipped over a crate to serve as a table below deck. The rowers and crew milled about, napping to escape the heat.

'So,' Alexios said, drowning his pastry in thick, bitter olive oil. 'To accept your bounty I must know three things: who you are, who you're after, and how much you'll pay me.'

The man nodded his head, taking a long draught of wine and using the neck of his tunic to mop sweat off his dark brow. 'Right. The first and third are easy. My name is Myron of Cyrene. I am considered a Prince in my homeland. And I will pay you, handsomely. A few thousand drachmae for your trouble.'

'So what are you after?'

The Prince shook his head and smiled to himself. 'It is a strange story, Alexios of Sparta. Part of me is not sure if it's real. Or if you will even believe me.'

Alexios nodded, looking the Prince in the eye. 'Try me.'

The young man sighed. 'Do you believe in gods, Eagle Bearer?'

Alexios shrugged.

'I received a message,' he said.

Alexios raised his eyebrows, encouraging him to continue. The Prince hesitated. 'From Athena.'

 _Here we go again_ , Alexios thought. He bit into a piece of fresh bread, doing his best not to maintain a neutral expression. His family had taken bets about how long he would last pressing oil and tending goats. Eighteen months and he would have proven them wrong. Here he was, a few weeks shy of it.

'I know how it sounds! But I promise on my honour, I am not a raving lunatic, seeing Pan here and Hercules there!'

'What did she say?'

'That she has hidden an ancient artefact somewhere in Greece. She is worried that it has been found out and that the power will corrupt her people and send us straight to Hades.'

Alexios waited a beat. 'Interesting.'

The Prince shrugged, 'I know what I saw… or what I didn't see. I was out on a morning ride. A great horned owl flew in my path, frightening my horse and throwing me off. When I stood, I could feel her behind me, hear her armour as she moved. She whispered the prophecy in my ear.'

'Not a moment of madness from hitting your head?'

The Prince shook his head vehemently. 'I know what I heard _misthios_.'

'This artefact…did she tell you where is was located?'

'No.'

'Do you know what it looks like?'

'No.'

Alexios rubbed his temples, 'Do you know anything?'

'Only that we are racing against _Chronos_ himself. There are others who know of its existence. Who would seek to only bring harm to our country and her people.'

'And who are these people?'

'They have many names. But I am told there is a Dark One.'

'So, does this Dark One know where we are? Do they know that you are also searching for the artefact?'

The Prince looked deflated, hanging his head forward, his shoulders sagging. 'I- I am not sure.'

Alexios shrugged. 'Why don't we begin with something I know then. I will search for this artefact, but I will need half the coin up front.'

'Done.'

'And I will need any information you've already gathered.'

'Hero can help you with that!'

'Who's he?'

' _She's_ one of the Priestesses of Apollo. I have brought her along for guidance. Paid handsomely for that too. I think Athena chose me not to build me up as a great warrior, but to fund a wild goose chase.'

'Having the money is important, it puts you in a position of power.'

'So some would say. Speaking of which…' he removed a coin purse from his belt, tossing it on the table. A few drachmae fell to the floor, catching the light from a porthole as they spun. Alexios thought that it looked like enough to cover the bet.

'Do I have your sword, Eagle Bearer?' the Prince asked, leaning back on his stool. He was feigning apathy, but Alexios could tell that he was in desperate need of something that would turn the tide of his hunt.

'Let me add some conditions to your conditions,' Alexios said.

'I'm listening.'

'I work alone. This ship, your crew… it's far too conspicuous. You'll be a hearty target on these waters. That's a distraction I won't need.'

'My fighters are some of the best in Greece! I can easily fend off pirates and the like.'

'It doesn't matter. I have my own crew. I work my own way. It's that or you can take your drachmae back.'

The Prince sighed. 'You take your ship, but I will personally keep an eye on you. Besides, I have the Priestesses of Apollo. They led me to you. They will lead me onward to find the artefact.'

'Yes,' Alexios started, 'I think I will take one of them with me.'

At that the Prince balked. 'You can take yourself to Hades! I am responsible for their personal protection, I swore to the god himself. You can have your ship, your crew, and your drachmae. But this… this I cannot allow.'

Alexios shrugged, 'Then I am not your man.' Alexios crossed his arms, 'But I will say this- I am the best fighter in Greece. Some might even say a demigod. The priestess would be safer with me than with your crew.'

The prince shook his head, running a hand through his dark curls. He was young. Alexios supposed no more than twenty-five. 'You don't understand Eagle Bearer. It has more to do with the protection of their reputation, you see?'

'I don't see.'

The Prince demurred. 'Their gift can only remain intact if… if they remain _intact_.'

Alexios cocked their head. 'They are not to be injured? As I said before-'

'No, no. I am referring to their-' at this point the Prince lowered his voice, 'virginity.'

'Oh,' Alexios said.

'Indeed. I have already had to pay a hefty bride price for the both of them. When I took them from the temple, their old crone of a chaperone assumed they wouldn't be coming back. Don't say anything, but I was hoping to offer marriage to the dark-haired one. Comes from a good family.'

'What about the other one?'

The Prince's eyes darkened. 'Now, she's an odd one, that woman. I'm not sure if she can't or won't speak. But her and Hero are thick as thieves. Hero translates for her. But she's good with her _pharmaka_. And then men stay well out of her way. Hero on the other hand…'

'What's her name?'

'Hero.'

'No, the odd one.'

'Eudora.'

'I'll take her. That way you can woo Hero without any interference. All problems solved.'

'Yes…' the Prince said, nodding his head. He looked up at Alexios, smiling. 'All problems solved.' He reached out his hand. The men clapped their forearms together in the traditional Greek way.

Alexios smiled back at the Prince. There was nothing like a good adventure to rouse one's feeling. But there was a niggling thought that gnawed at his stomach, one that cautioned him that their problems were only beginning.

* * *

Eudora had left the ship and stepped onto dry land so she could loll in the shade of an old, twisted olive tree. She had not gone far. Hero had elected to take a midday nap, as she usually did. But Eudora was far too excited to sleep.

She could not believe that she had come face to face with the man whom she'd been dreaming about for months. She saw him standing tall and proud, holding Hermes' own staff in his hands. She saw him as a child, sparring with his father on the hard Spartan earth. She saw him wiling away the hours with Markos, learning thievery and trickery. She felt like they were old friends, meeting again after too much time apart.

Of course, there was no way to tell him this. And no way to translate through Hero without upsetting him. Instead, she decided she would do what she did best. Remain silent, and feed information through her fellow priestess.

Eudora tamped down the longing she felt to speak, the self-pity that inevitably came one whenever she desperately wanted to express something. Closing her eyes, she calmed herself by listening to a weak breeze rustle the leaves of the olive tree. She felt the gnarled bark pressing through her tunic.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Ikaros, who had hopped over the dock and past some light traffic to inspect her. The raptor offered a small chirp as he came closer.

 _Hello_ , she thought, reaching a hand toward him.

* * *

Alexios found Ikaros curled up on Eudora's lap as she stroked his belly.

'Ridiculous,' he muttered. But then again, he wondered who wouldn't like to have a nice belly rub in a pretty woman's lap?

Ikaros didn't look his away as he approached. 'You'll spoil my bird,' he remarked with a smile.

When Eudora caught his eye, she stood quickly, depositing Ikaros on the ground, good wing flapping, as she hastily brushed off her tunic and then secured her headscarf to stay the bright blonde curls. She laced her fingers demurely behind her back. Gods, she was an interesting thing to look at. Beautiful, yes, but in an unusual way. _Not for you_ , Alexios had to remind himself.

'Don't trouble yourself,' he said, 'I am glad the two of you get along. You will become good friends on my ship.'

She narrowed her eyes and shook her head, as if she were asking for an explanation.

'I have spoken to the Prince of Cyrene. I am to bring you with me, on my ship, with my crew.'

Her eyes widened. She pointed to herself and then tentatively back at him.

'Yes,' he said. For such a learned girl, she was slow to catch on.

As if she heard his thoughts her eyes narrowed once more. She shook her head. Then, grabbing fistfuls of her tunic, she dashed off toward the dock, where the Prince's ship was moored.

'Eudora!' Alexios shouted. He heard Ikaros let out a loud screech behind him. Doubling back to pick up his large, ungainly eagle, he ran after her. Unfortunately, afternoon traffic began to pick up dockside. He knocked over one man carrying a basket of mussels. Begrudgingly, he bent to help him pick them up, Ikaros tucked softly in the crook of his arm, chattering happily.

When he finally jumped back on board, he saw that Hero was pointing at him, and looked furious.

'You cannot simply separate us! That was never to be part of the plan!' Hero shouted at the Prince.

'I understand your frustration,' he said, holding up his hands.

'How _dare_ you? How _dare_ you anger the great god Apollo!' she added, stabbing an index finger in his chest. She then turned to address the crew. 'You all saw how Agamemnon was punished for stealing away one of our sisters. He will strike down such a plague on you! Festering boils, wounds filled with pus! You will all be scarred and misshapen men!'

She must be the Pythia, with theatrics like that. Some of the crewmembers were wide-eyed, quaking in their sandals. Alexios placed Ikaros down on the deck, then strode up her, clapping his hands slowly.

'You certainly put on a good show, Hero. But those tactics won't work on me. It is very simple. To complete the quest, I must bring Eudora with me. It will encourage you, and the Prince, to behave nicely. Think of it as collateral. And I swear on my life, no harm shall come to her.'

Hero eyed him suspiciously. Now, this was a real Greek beauty. She was tall and buxom, with large brown eyes and flowing locks of rich dark hair. No wonder the prince was taken with her, along with the rest of the crew. There would be no gift to lose in taking her virginity, no defilement. She was not otherworldly, rather very earthy, womanly.

'It does not matter,' she said, stepping back. Eudora was folding her arms, looking at both him and the Prince cautiously. 'I am the only one who can translate for her. We have known each other since we were children. She cannot go with you Eagle Bearer. Not without me.'

'I am glad to see that you are a loyal friend. But you hold no sway, even as the Pythia. Eudora comes with me.' He looked over at Eudora, who had placed herself behind Hero. 'And you,' he said, 'can understand me perfectly. As long as you listen to orders we'll do just fine.'

She shook her head, and instead decided to inspect the rigging on one of the masts. And then the sky seemed to darken.

The crewmembers exchanged looks, the Prince stepped forward and Hero backed away. Eudora's head suddenly went down to her chest, her eyes closed.

'Take the priestess with you, warrior,' she spoke, in a soft voice. It seemed to echo, as though she were speaking from some great distance. It was a woman's voice.

There were frightened murmurs across the crowd. Some men dropped to their knees. 'Bless you goddess!' one shouted.

'You will not find the orb here. Rather search closer to the end of the world. For you will find it at the edge of time. Hurry.'

Eudora crumpled to the ground. Hero rushed over to her, turning her onto her back. Alexios and the prince walked over. Alexios knelt down, taking Eudora's gracile hand in his. Her headscarf had fallen off, her face was wicked in sweat and pale in colour.

'It's one of her fugues,' Hero explained. 'She will wake soon.'

'It was the goddess, Athena,' the Prince said.

'You know,' Alexios added, 'a year or two ago, this would have seemed very strange to me.'

The Prince looked over at him. 'The goddess has commanded it and we must obey. The priestess goes with you.'


	4. Chapter 4

"Sea and fire and woman; three evils."

\- Ancient Greek Idiom

Hero leaned against the bow of the ship, looking over the railing to see dolphins playing in the wake of the boat. She was slowly becoming used to the rhythms of ship life and the feeling of being out on open water. She had only ever seen the crowded streets of Athens and the small, cramped town of Delphi. Being sent to the temple when she was twelve was such an adventure!

She had understood, even then, the desperately small lives Greek women were supposed to lead. Being cossetted and covered, forced to spend their days sewing or weaving, entertaining their husband's guests. It was such a boon to be granted the life of a priestess, even if she was expected to marry after. To be educated, to be regarded as worthy, to be listened to by kings and courtiers, to be involved in the rising and falling of empires around the world… indeed, it was a privilege.

But soon, she discovered that religious life could be just a tedious, with rigorous prayers, heavy robes, the endless preparations for festivals, and all other sorts of nonsense.

Thank the gods for Eudora.

When she had arrived at the sanctuary fourteen and scrawny, her parents afraid of the violent fits and mysterious prophecies, it had broken up the day to day mundanity. Suddenly, Hero had a friend. They made up their own language, played pranks on the other girls and older priestesses, imagined themselves to be princesses of a faraway land…

Eudora's frighteningly accurate visions allowed them to get away with more than they should have. With coin pouring into the temple's coffers, Media gave them a freer rein. Life was boring, but good.

'Magnificent, isn't she?' the Prince asked.

'Indeed,' Hero replied, 'I am coming to enjoy sea life, my lord.'

'Happy to hear it! We go toward Athens and will meet Alexios there. Hopefully they have uncovered more information.'

'I will pray to the gods,' Hero said with only a hint of sarcasm. It had becoming clear to her that the Prince could not detect, or would not acknowledge, her acidic attitude. He was always smiling, always amiable, and exceedingly polite. It was driving her mad.

'How kind of you!' he said. 'The weather has been very fair for us indeed! It looks like sailing will be smooth all the way to Attika.'

'Really?' Hero said. 'I wonder how our friends fare. You have displeased the gods by allowing a priestess off alone with a mercenary.'

'I sent my best apprentice with them! Kian is keen and has a good eye. He will keep them from trouble,' the Prince replied.

Hero sighed. 'It's not other people I worry about. If Eudora is unhappy… strange things tend to happen. Something in my bones tells me the journey will not be easy. I warned that Eagle-Bearer about seeing to her every comfort. For his sake, I hoped he has honoured my words.'

* * *

Alexios never considered himself to be a vain man. When he referred to himself as the greatest fighter on Greek soil, it was partly to frighten his enemies. But simply, he was telling the truth. He had yet to meet someone who could match him on the battlefield, or encounter some far-flung mercenary who could cut him down. He'd stood beside captains and kings in the thick of combat, killed men in the arena to become a champion, and even solved the riddle of the Sphinx. Three times.

For the love of Zeus, he'd been down in the bowels of the labyrinth to fight the fabled Minotaur! By all accounts, he could have been raised up high alongside other such mythical heroes like Perseus, or Heracles.

So then why was he finding this woman so… _difficult_?

Women were a curious breed. A species apart. And this woman seemed to not be human at all, but something else entirely. It was beginning to infuriate him.

 _Witch_ , the men had called her.

'Beautiful morning,' Alexios tried, tightening his lips into a smile.

She looked over at him demurely, ensuring her headscarf was well-fastened and modest around her golden curls.

Alexios knew she could not speak, but he could feel her anger, her disappointment, her fear, her frustration. It was as though a cloud of ill will had been hanging low around their small company for several days. And though it was the height of summer it had rained nearly every day, soaking through their clothes and waterlogging their supplies, in addition to making the seas generally more dangerous.

They were not far from Sparta, which was his only respite.

'Shall I go ahead and see what's ahead, sir?' the serving boy asked eagerly.

Kian was around eleven years old and barely higher than Alexios's bracers. The Prince had sent him along to help with the journey. But where Eudora was silent, Kian was an endless stream of questions, anecdotes, and stories, with aspirations to also be a great warrior some day. He spoke Greek perfectly, in addition to Hebrew and Persian. Worse still, every evening he and Eudora were forming their own language using their hands. She taught him words, and when there was no word they made a new one up, Kian's laughter keeping him up well into the night.

'Yes, but be quick about it.'

Kian dashed off into the olive grove. With Ikaros still recovering, the boy had made himself useful in some respects.

Alexios was doing his best to lay low. But that with a golden haired witch, a yammering Cyrenite, and a broken eagle, that was proving to be nearly impossible. It seemed that there were rumours going around about a Prince and the Pythia escaping from Delphi after a terrible prophecy. Every shop-keeper and craftsmen were being exceedingly cautious and shrewd, while the townsfolk stared at them through narrowed eyes.

On their first day of travel Alexios quickly realized that he could not have Eudora in her priestess robes. They attracted far too much attention. He convinced a local farmer to swap out his daughter's farm clothes for those of a high priestess of Delphi. Eudora balked, then promptly refused, going so far as to march off down the road.

It was only when Alexios said that she could wear those clothes or go naked that she relented. She absolutely refused to give up a silver bangle, a snake wrapped tightly around Hermes' staff. Alexios allowed her that, at least.

And ever since then, their string of bad luck had gone from bad to positively epic.

First, the pack mule had gone lame. Alexios could not find another for two days as he hauled around the majority of their supplies. Finally, when they did find a beast, it was a great, hulking red charger from Macedonia. The mare was called Enyo, named for the goddess of chaos and destruction. She'd already used her sharp teeth to inform Alexios of her low opinion of him, twice.

The weather was either mercilessly hot or pouring down with rain. The bread and cheeses had been soaked, so they were subsisting purely off of olives and dried meat. Ikaros was becoming bad tempered from being unable to fly, and Kian's questions had drifted from 'yes' or 'no' answers to requiring more detailed responses.

But they were almost home. Not even a half a day's ride to Myrinne's doorstep. He'd sent a messenger ahead with the barest details, but one could never be sure if it would arrive in time.

Eudora had gone down to the creek for her morning ablations. The sun was shrouded by clouds again this morning, and they would not be burned off by the heat. The red mare was cropping grass, pinning her ears at Alexios as he began packing up their things.

Hearing a sound from behind him, Alexios glanced at Eudora as she picked her way up the narrow path to their campsite. She ran her fingertips over the bark of nearly every tree, sometimes reaching up to touch the leaves. Enyo nickered as she approached, pricking her ears forward.

Eudora ran her hands over the mare's red-gold coat, leaning her cheek against the soft fur.

'Witch,' he muttered under his breath.

'Alexios!'

He stood, watching Kian as he dashed in between the olive trees, kicking up small stones as he went. 'Soldiers, on the road ahead!'

'How many?' Alexios asked.

'Six!' he said, in between hulking breaths. 'Wearing red.' There was a loud crash and the three of them looked to the skies above. The sky had grown dark with thunder clouds.

'Bloody Zeus,' Alexios said, sighing heavily. 'At least it will drown out our movements. We can't have the soldiers asking any questions.'

'You there!' a voice called through the trees.

Kian and Eudora both looked to him with panicked eyes. 'Do. Not. Move,' he instructed.

'Here, captain!' Alexios replied.

The small group of soldiers, dressed in red capes and Spartan helmets crowded their small camp. 'Ah, you're Myrrine's boy,' the captain said, 'Eagle-Bearer, is it?' He was an older, stalwart sort of man, with close cropped hair and a thick, greying beard. An obvious Spartan.

'Found out again,' Alexios replied amicably. 'We are on our way to see her now.'

'Indeed! Shall we provide you with an escort?'

'That shouldn't be necessary, captain.'

The man's eyes flicked to Kian and then up to Eudora. His gaze lingered on her longer than Alexios liked. 'We insist… given the fact that you're travelling with some… vulnerable individuals.' There was another long rumble of thunder and the sky darkened further.

The words were out of his mouth before he had time to snatch them back. 'Captain, I am bringing my new wife back to Sparta, to spend time with my family.' He lowered his voice. 'She is with child, you see. Her own mother died many years ago. She is anxious to be in the company of my mother and the _gynaeceum_.'

The captain considered her again for a moment, walking over to her.

' _Chiare_ , my lady.'

Alexios could feel his chest tighten. He was holding his breath. Alexios looked down at Kian, and the boy's eyes flitted up to his. Alexios smiled through clenched teeth. 'Get ready to run,' he hissed through the smile.

Kian cocked an eyebrow at him. 'Get ready to run,' he tried again. The boy shrugged his shoulders.

Eudroa had bowed her head, looking the picture of a silent, obedient Athenian bride. Spartan women were not expected to be so obsequious, but for all they knew she was foreign born.

'Unusual looking,' the captain said. 'But well behaved. I'd say you've done nicely here, Eagle-Bearer.'

Alexios took in a deep breath of air. 'It is appreciated, sir. But she still has a lot to learn!'

The men laughed, dispelling some of the tension. Even Kian joined in.

Then the world went white. Alexios froze, the ground beneath him unsteady. There was a great, deafening clap that nearly put him on his back. He heard a high-pitch whinny, Ikaros' screech, and a scream from a man. When he opened his eyes, an olive tree was on fire.

'Z-z-zeus!' Kian shouted, grabbing Alexios' arm and dragging him away from the scene. 'Zeus!' he yelled again.

Had he been struck by lightning? There was a loud ringing in his ears. Great flames leapt from the tree, touching the branches of others, setting them alight as well. His mind was working at half its rate. _We need to move_ , he thought, but his limbs felt thick, heavy.

Then Eudora was there as well, helping Kian move him away from the flames. She held his cheek, offering him water from a leather skin.

'We need to go,' he choked out. 'We have to leave.'

'That man went up in flames!' Kian said. 'I saw him…I saw-'

'We'll be burnt to crisps if we don't move!' Alexios bellowed, finding his strength again. The ringing was slowly leaving his ears and his vision was no longer blurred. He stood shakily to his feet, grabbing the mare's halter, ripping the picket out of the ground. She tried to nip at him, the whites of her eyes showing.

'Everyone up,' he commanded.

Eudora hesitated. She was holding Ikaros against her chest as he struggled, calling out. 'Especially you two,' Alexios said, grabbing her by the waist and hoisting her onto Enyo's back, one leg on either side. She leaned forward, shrouding the bird in her skirts.

Alexios swung up behind her in one fluid motion. He held out his hand for Kian, who grabbed it happily, clambering onto the mare behind Alexios.

Eudora was shaking, fisting her hands into the mare's red mane. Wrapping his hand around the leadrope, Alexios dug his heels into the mare's sides. With a squeal she leapt into a gallop. Alexios gave the mare her head, trusting the beast to find its way to safety.

'Hold on!' he said.

The terrain was rough, mountainous. Rain began to hammer them, obscuring everything in their path. Alexios urged the mare on.

Kian was mumbling behind him in, what Alexios assumed, was Persian. 'The gods won't save us now,' Alexios shouted over the din. 'Pray to our mare!'

She was dodging and sliding through the underbrush. 'There's a good girl,' Alexios murmured. The mare snorted, pushing on.

Eventually the rain began to abate. The appeared as though the sky had lightened enough to allow some blue patches of sky to reveal themselves. 'Praise be!' Kian called out as Alexios slowed the horse. The boy slid easily off her wet coat, feet squelching in the muck. He could have kissed the ground.

Alexios was off as well, his sandals sinking into the thick mud of a farmer's field. He gave the mare a heavy pat on the neck. She snorted, stretching her neck down as they lead her to the road. The rain had become a light patter now. It was almost pleasant.

'Eudora?' Alexios asked, looking up at her.

She was clutching Ikaros, but looked down at Alexios, only the whites of her eyes showing. 'Ask the woman you call mother,' she told him, in a stern, deep voice.

Then she slid off the mare's back, falling into the mud.


	5. Chapter 5

You men are fool enough, it seems, to dare to war with women, when for your faithful ally you might win us easily.

Aristophanes' _Lysistrata_

Eudora woke to the smell of lavender. It was her mother's favourite fragrance. She had a memory of laughing mother her crushing up dried sprigs between her fingertips for bath water, or perfume. Slowly, she opened her eyes. She was lying in a small, but comfortable bed, the mattress well stretched and stuffed; a well lived in blanket keep her warm. She yawned, stretching out like a cat. One her bedside table was a jar filled with lavender.

 _Where am I?_ She wondered. But the thought did not hurry her out of the warm bed. The morning was cool, a soft breeze drifting in through the window.

She heard the thump of wood coming from outside, a mélange of shouts and laughter. She recognized one voice as Kian's… the other was from an older male. Perhaps Alexios has finally relented and begun showing the boy some techniques with a sword.

Slowly, she rose. She was safe here. She felt it. The villa was all soft brown hues and shaded porticoes, warm orange light and fading frescoes. There was a strong female energy here, as though Hestia herself were tending to the kitchen fire.

Eudora planted her feet on the stone floor. She was clad only in her shift, and when she reached for the clothes folded neatly on a chair, she realized that there was no veil.

Ah, so they had made it to Sparta after all.

Spartan women were not expected to uphold the same restrictive veiling laws that were required of their Attic counterparts. Even in Delphi, women had begun to wear lightweight fabric in public, a far cry from the thick, ancient robes Eudora was trussed up in every day.

She had no looking glass, but she felt positively naked. The _chiton_ required no pins; rather it was tied around her waist with a rope. There were short sleeves on it as well, baring most of her arms. The hem rose well above her ankles. She realized that this was the garb of a working woman. If Media had seen this she would have chased her out of the temple, suggesting she take up with women of ill repute instead… if she was so keen to dress like them.

Eudora found it exceedingly ironic that although she'd left Media's corporeal body in Delphi; her ghost seemed to follow her as a relentless voice of dissent in her head.

 _You won't be keeping your power much longer if you expose your ankles and hair like some common woman_ , the voice warned.

Eudora shook her head and took a deep breath. She was worried about people staring, but there was important business to conduct. Besides, she was in Sparta now, dressing as a Spartan _kore_. By all accounts she should enjoy the same freedoms as well.

Satisfied with herself, she opened the ancient wooden door to the bedroom. The hallway was short, and there were whispering voices at the end of it.

Being sure to walk on her tiptoes, Eudora creeped down the flagstones, doing her best to eavesdrop discreetly.

'It is so strange, _mater_. It was like all of it was her doing. Even the horse… I have no idea how we made it here without snapping our necks.'

'What can I say besides the gods work in mysterious ways? I thought you'd have learned this by now.'

'I'm not even sure if I believe in the gods…'

'After all you've been through-'

'I'd rather we stayed on topic.' That was certainly Alexios. His perpetually short fuse seemed to be cut another few inches these days. He sounded tense.

In Eudora's dreams Alexios was constantly fighting. In the heat of battle he looked to serene, so completely at one with his work. She was so surprised to find him easily annoyed and somewhat petty in the waking life. But also charming, and gentle with Ikaros… and exceedingly handsome. But in a brutish way, more like a boxer or a farmer than a prince.

 _Those are not the thoughts of a virginal young woman_ , Media snapped. Eudora waved her off, as though she were swatting a midge.

'Of course. I only have one idea of what you may be speaking of.' The female sounded older, much wiser, and incredibly patient.

'Eudora! You're up!'

Kian was grinning ear to ear as he brandished a wooden practice sword. He had entered from the other end of the hallway, sweaty and completely happy. A large man ducked in through the doorway behind him, his hair greying. They all regarded one another.

'I was just coming to wake you up,' Alexios said, walking toward her. She turned to face him, walking directly into his broad chest. She took a step back, embarrassed and he steadied her by gripping her bare arms. A deep red flush ran through her as she regarded his hands.

He immediately released her. 'Ah, this is my mother, Myrrine.'

' _Chiare_ , my child!' the woman said. Before Eudora could get a good look the woman had pulled her into a warm embrace.

The scent of lavender and soap engulfed her. Eudora closed her eyes, seeing the woman as a young child, raised up by a strong king, the pain of losing her father… the intense pain of losing her children. Myrrine stepped back after a moment, smiling and touching Eudora's cheek. 'By the gods,' she whispered, tucking some of her golden hair behind her ear, 'thank you for delivering my son here safely.'

Eudora smiled, wishing she could tell her that all she ever did was cling to the mare for dear life. Perhaps Apollo was listening after all.

'Come, come,' Myrrine said, leading her toward the end of the hall. There was the smell of bread baking. Eudora could feel her stomach rumbling, grateful for the move to the dining table. Everyone took a seat at the long wooden bench, chatting amicably as a servant laid out platters of olives, breads, cheeses, and fruit.

Eudora was happy to become lost in the talk. No one really bothered formally introducing her. There was Alexios' mother, and his father Nikolaos, who was the stern Spartan man that humoured Kian this morning.

'Ma's a priestess of Cybele; father oversees one of the satrapies. The Prince is some sort of a distant relative, mostly father was happy with the new trade agreements and wanted me to learn all of that boring business. I'd rather be out with learning to fight with the other pages than being stuck in the palace translating all day,' Kian said in between bites of feta.

'A little more practice with your blocking and you'll be up to speed,' Nikolaos mentioned. 'Alexios was terrible at your age. But you're a quick study. Brains count as much as brawn on the battlefield.'

Kian positively beamed. Alexios laughed, 'Next to the Wolf of Sparta it was hard to look good! But things turned out all right for me, even if I was slow to catch on.'

'What about you, Eudora?' Myrrine asked.

Eudora looked up from her food. Had no one told her?

'Eudora can't speak,' Kian said, shoving bread into his mouth.

'That may be so, but Alexios mentioned that you were working on a language with her.'

Kian nodded. 'I can try, but we haven't gotten all of the words down yet.' Kian turned to her. 'You need to go slowly so I can catch everything.'

Eudora nodded, pleased with his determination. Taking in a deep breath, she turned to face Kian. His brow was furrowed, concentrating. 'I was born… on a farm. Father is… a goat?' Kian squinted his eyes, Eudora quirked her wrist to make a crook.

'A shepherd,' Alexios said.

'She has been a priestess since she was…thirteen? No, fourteen.' Eudora nodded her head, pleased.

'My gods, you must become exhausted trying to communicate with people,' Myrrine said, pouring more wine into her glass.

Eudora widened her eyes, nodding.

'She had a language with her counterpart, the Pythia. But she has stayed behind with the Prince. We are supposed to be meeting them soon, in Athens. I still need to uncover information about this artefact.'

Myrrine sighed. 'Like I was telling you before, I only have a limited idea of what it could be.'

Eudora leaned forward, a shiver running down her spine. Something was telling her to pay attention.

'Many years ago, when I still had my ship, we had run in some pirates that were transporting illegal goods to the Persian Empire. One of their leger books had made reference to something that had been purchased by the Persian King. It was simply known as _kranos_.'

'Helmet,' Kian said.

'They were damnedly quiet about it. So strange. We could not find it on the ship. Eventually one of the crew members confessed that the night porter had been beaten when they were docked in Korinth. It was stolen that evening.'

'So what?' Alexios said. 'It was just a helmet, probably a fine one if it were on its way to the Persian King. That does not help our cause.'

She shook her head. 'Something about it Alexios. I cannot explain it. The way those men were acting. It was as though… they had gone mad. They did not care that the ship had been robbed. They were simply wandering around aimlessly. They were utterly lifeless.'

The whole table was silent as everyone took in Myrrine's words.

'All over a helmet?' Alexios repeated.

Eudora found herself nodding. She believed Myrrine. And the more she thought about it, the more her head felt hot, as though it were swelling. There was a heaviness on her brow, a sharp metallic scent nearly choked her.

No one seemed to notice, Eudora closed her eyes, feeling the wooden bench beneath her, running her fingers over the knots of wood on the table's surface. Slowly, she returned to the conversation.

'Why, why gods, does it always have to be _Korinth_?' Alexios asked to no one in particular.

'You Greeks curse your gods often,' Kian observed. Myrrine laughed at that.

'I suppose that will be our next stop,' Alexios said. 'At least the powers at be are sending us on an efficient route. We will go there first and then on to Athens.'

'Won't you stay with us for a few days?' Myrrine asked. 'You've just arrived!'

Alexios shook his head. 'I am on a strict timeline, and with these two in tow extra time is eaten up quite quickly.'

'Hopefully this time we have more sunshine and less lightning,' Kian added, his eyes glazing over slightly.

Eudora nodded in agreement.

'But first,' Alexios said, rubbing the stubble that had grown on his jaw, 'we need to find Kassandra. And get my ship back from her.'

* * *

'Who is out on the seas under black sails?' Hero asked the Prince. They were not long for Athens now, and she was desperate to see Eudora again. She had been having these terrible dreams that Eudora had been captured and was being held captive, unable to scream for help. Hero would wake up, wicked with sweat and then pace the ship's deck until she was tired enough to fall asleep again.

The Prince squinted his eyes against the darkening horizon. The sky flushed a deep pink and the ship, which had been a small dot, was blossoming into a large, dark stain. 'I am not sure, but they are coming for us fast.'

Hero felt her heart begin to race in her chest. The Prince had tensed up, he lifted an arm, and a few archers knocked arrows on their bows.

The wind whipped up, causing gooseflesh to break up Hero's arm. The Prince smiled over at her, genial as he always was. 'There's no need to fear my lady! I have the best archers this side of the sea. They are a small ship, perhaps they are in need of supplies. My men are just acting as a precaution. Not to worry.'

But she was worried. She thought she could see a black silhouette standing at the bow, waiting to pounce.


	6. Chapter 6

**σὺν Ἀθηνᾷ καὶ χεῖρα κίνει**

 _Along with Athena, also move your hand._

 _-_ Greek Proverb

'So you have no idea where she went?'

Alexios was growing tired. It was midmorning and the sun was already unbearable. The outskirts of Sparta were normally lush and green with farmland. But this brutal summer had baked everything yellow and brown. He stood in his mother's kitchen, watching her and the family servant dry herbs.

'She went out the front door, saying that if you weren't going to be using the Adrestia, someone should,' Myrrine replied, using a paring knife to shear off the bitter ends of fragrant strands of thyme.

'Well this gives me nothing!' Alexios said, raising his voice.

Myrrine pointed her knife at him. 'Remember with whom you're speaking lamb.'

'Why is it that every time I come home, no one know where Kassandra goes or what she does?'

'She took Stentor with her this time.'

'For Zeus' sake woman!'

Myrrine shrugged her shoulders. 'You all three are grown now. Am I to keep you close here with me? You certainly decided to move on.'

Alexios wiped the sweat from his brow. He wanted, for the thousandth time, to justify why he had left the comfortable little cocoon in the Spartan hillside. Why it was easier to visit than stay.

'Do you have an inkling of where they may have gone?' he asked.

'That Artemis priestess. Has Kassandra told you of her?'

Alexios cocked his head. 'Daphne?'

'Ah!' Myrrine said, smiling. 'Yes, I believe that's the one! I think she is off to find her. She mentioned something about slaying beasts. This is the plight of having such blessed children. They always want to leave.'

Alexios caught the edge of sadness in her voice. He came around the side of table, slinging an arm around her shoulder. 'Yes, but it makes the return so much sweeter.'

Myrrine sighed. 'Are you ready to set off?'

'Yes, though I'll need to borrow a skiff or something of the like to get us back up to Delphi.'

'Nikolaos will help you with that.'

'Thank you, mater.'

Myrrine smiled, tears threatening to spill over. 'You know you are welcome here, always. You and your strange companions. They bring good luck, I have never seen my herb garden so healthy!'

'Indeed, the first bit of luck I've had on this gods forsaken trip.' Alexios muttered as he opened the front door.

Kian was sparring with Nikolaos again on dusty flagstones. Eudora was sitting on an overturned crate, laughing to herself. 'Ready, priestess?' Alexios asked.

She looked up at him and nodded, standing to brush off her short chiton. She pointed to Kian, and then looked back at Alexios.

'They are almost finished,' he answered.

She shook her head and gave him a timid smile. She held her hand aloft, as though she were clutching a sword. She then opened up her palms, furrowing her brow.

'Oh,' Alexios said. 'Nikolaos is training Kian how to dodge oncoming attacks with a sword in his hand. It seems easy, but rolling on the ground with a sharp point takes finesse.'

Eudora nodded, tapping her chin as she watched.

'Will you let me have my translator back?' Alexios called to his stepfather.

'In a minute Alexios!' he shouted back. 'Now, one more time,' he said to the boy, preparing to charge at him.

In an instant, Kian ducked and rolled perfectly, dodging the burly man and getting to his feet in a flash, holding the sword out, primed to attack. 'Ho ho!' Nikolaos said, clapping Kian on the shoulder. 'I told you that you'd get it!'

'Did you see that one Eudora?' the boy asked, holding his sword in the air. 'This is Sparta!' he mimed in a deep voice.

Nikolaos laughed, ruffling the boy's hair. Alexios felt a tug in his chest. He sometimes wondered what life would have been like had he really belonged to the Wolf. Would everything have been easier? Would he have grown up as a true Spartan, instead of an outsider, never really knowing his place?

'Kian, we need to reach the docks before noon!' Alexios said.

'Yes, sir!' he said, grinning.

* * *

Being held captive was decidedly undignified. Firstly, she was being held in a room with a ceiling so low she could not stand to her full height. Save for a window, there was a very tiny porthole which rested so low, seawater poured in when the boat rocked. The wood was damp and moldy, groaning with each wave swell.

'How are you this morning?' asked the Prince. There was a small crack in the wall between the rooms where they were being held captive.

'Good today,' she said through the crack. 'And you? Have you seen anyone?'

'Just the same solider that comes in to give me my breakfast. I think we have been down here for three days. I overheard one of the men saying that we would be arriving in Athens soon.'

'Blessed gods,' Hero breathed. She needed warm sunshine again; she needed fresh air and food. Only then would she be able to start planning her escape.

'I do hope Alexios and Kian are on their way,' the Prince mused. 'Perhaps word will have reached them by now.'

Hero had been stolen away into the tiny cell before she could see what happened to the crew. Many men had been lost during the skirmish that had taken place before the captors attempted to board them.

'No matter what, they will find us in Athens,' Hero said. She was not sure if she were trying to convince the Prince or herself of that.

'Was this… was this the Dark One you were speaking of, Hero?'

Hero started. 'The Dark One?'

'Yes, when I visited the temple to obtain the prophecy. You spoke of a dark figure that had been chasing us.'

'Oh, Your Grace…'

'Please, call me Myron.'

Hero balked. He must have been able to see her expression through the crack because he added: 'I think it's only appropriate. No one can really claim to be royalty whilst locked up here. It only took one man to subdue me. No doubt any survivors have already made their way back to Cyrene, going on about their beloved, but woefully unprepared leader.'

'If royalty doesn't belong in a dungeon, than neither does self-pity, in my humble opinion.'

Myron smiled ruefully at her. 'I suppose you are right.'

'I'm not usually wrong about these things. I think we should both try to rest until we reach Athens. Then we can use our wits to plan an escape rather than go mad in this forsaken little broom closet.'

'I am sorry, you know,' Myron said.

'Yes, well…' Hero began. 'I suppose I am the one who bullied Media into letting me come. How happy she would be, to know that I have disgraced myself.'

'I promised to protect you,' Myron began. 'Looks as though I have made a rotten job of that as well.'

'But you cannot shield me from all of the evils in this world. Let us rest now, Myron. I am tired of lamentation.'

The Prince smiled at her ruefully. 'Sleep well, priestess. I hope when you wake up that we find ourselves in better circumstances.'

* * *

Eudora did not want to return to Delphi. Alexios had joked with her, asking her to keep her opinions to herself, thank you very much. He had reason to believe that his sister had stolen his ship and crew and for some reason had made her way to the sacred temple of Artemis.

Artemis and Apollo; twins and constant competitors. The priestesses of Artemis were beautiful, wild, and dark counterparts to their learned, stoic priest sisters. Eudora came into contact with them once per year, during a shared feat day. She was always aghast at their bare ankles, the dirt under their fingernails, their loose braids.

But it made sense. Artemis ruled the moon; hidden passions and wild natures. But Apollo ruled the sun; the discoverer of things, the steward of understanding. He expected his priestesses to worship at the alter of knowledge.

Eudora was not keen to return to bucolic Dephi, to wander into the forests of those Artemis priestesses. She had heard of strange things there. She had heard of sacrifice and blood.

Shivering, she wrapped her arms around her abdomen. A cool breeze ruffled her hair. She looked back at Myrrine's house. The woman leaned against her Spartan captain in the doorway, waving goodbye to the small company.

They made a strange trio; a battle-hardened warrior, a pirate-queen woman, and their demi-god offspring. _What a strange family_ , she had signed to Kian, who nodded in agreement. They set off down the road, red mare in tow.

Later that evening she overheard the young translator and Alexios speaking.

'Eudora thinks you are strange. You and your kin,' the boy said.

'I would not fault her for thinking so,' Alexios replied.

Both of their voices were lowered to a whisper and Eudora struggled to hear them.

'D'you think she was causing all of our misfortune… the lightening strike?' Kian sounded wary.

'I am not sure. But I have seen some very strange things in this country. Eudora is special. We would do well to ensure her comfort and safety. Besides, things tend to go well for us when she is happy.'

Eudora felt her heart leap at that. _Kind_ , she thought.


	7. Chapter 7

_Courage is knowing what not to fear_

-Socrates

The dark water lapped against the side of the skiff as they pushed out into the foggy morning. The sun was just beginning to rise, but it was still murky. Fishermen pulled their nets out of the warm summer water surrounding the port of Athens. Eudora wrapped her headscarf more tightly around her curls, her eyes scanning the horizon.

They were waiting for them.

Alexios rowed from the back with one long oar. Kian was tucked between him and Eudora, sleeping rather soundly on a dry bed of fishing net. Alexios was jealous. For the past two days they'd been travelling on little food and rest. That first night in the olive grove, Eudora had a terrible dream about their companions. She was frantic in her suggestion that they go straight to Athens instead of detouring to find Kassandra and the Adrestria.

'Why, what did you see?' Alexios asked.

Eudora had shaken her head, cupping her face in her hands, refusing to explain herself. Even Kian could not wriggle it out of her. All Alexios knew was that their companions were in trouble, and if they went to meet them, they would be grossly outnumbered.

Eudora stood suddenly, nearly upending the skiff.

'Steady there!' Alexios said. The swaying woke Kian, who sat up rubbing his eyes.

'Wha-' he began, than promptly shut his mouth.

In the distance there was a large ship with black sails, moored in the calm waters. The sun was beginning to penetrate the fog. Alexios felt sweat forming on his brow.

'It's big,' Kian said, scrambling to the front of the boat, next to Eudora.

'Be careful you two,' Alexios murmured. He felt his stomach drop at the sight of the large trireme. Eudora stared at it intently. He knew that she'd seen it before. It was where the Prince and Pythia were being held.

* * *

They had been docked in the port for one night. Hero was calmed by the soft swells, and she dreamt that she was at her father's house on Aphaia, picking sour grapes from the top of a pergola, lounging about with her sisters before she was sent to the temple. They were smiling and laughing, voices so hushed she could not make out the words.

Then, one of her sisters turned to face her. 'Run', she said, still smiling. 'Run'.

The banging on the door was so vigorous, Hero though the shabby piece of wood would burst from the frame. 'I am awake!' she shouted. Her joints creaked as she stood, dusting off the dirty blue tunic.

The door opened, and there she saw one of the soldiers dressed in black armour. 'Come,' he commanded.

'Where is the prince?' she asked.

'Come,' the solider replied.

Lifting her skirts, she followed the solider out of the dingy room, through the cramped bowels of the ship. The boards groaned under their weight, and as they passed the rowing stations, she was surprised to see not a single person manning the oars.

The solider motioned for her to climb a ladder up onto the deck of the boat. She huffed, hoping he was not going to get a good look up her skirt. But then, the men on this boat were strange. They followed orders to the letter, and were more stoic than any Spartan she'd ever met.

The light was soft, and for a moment she could not tell if it was dawn or dusk. As she blinked her eyes, the picture started to focus. The soldiers were lined up toward the bow. The one leading her walked ahead, indicating that she should follow.

Hero threaded her way through the men, all dressed in black greaves and black breastplates. She could not see their faces. When she arrived at the bow of the ship, she saw Myron, keeling. His dark head was bowed, his hands were tied behind his back.

'Myron?' she began.

'Hero…' he started. As she drew closer to him, she noticed a pool of blood at his knees.

'Gods,' she breathed. Hero knelt beside the prince, her ruined tunic sopping up some of the blood that dripped onto the polished wood deck from a cut above his eyebrow. His right eye was bruised and swollen. 'What did they do to you?'

He glanced down as she saw a shadow spread over both of them.

'Well met, the fabled Prince and the Pythia.'

The voice was deep, menacing. Hero jerked her head around to face it. This, she knew, must had been the captain. He was dressed in black and silver armour, the head of a ram bulging through the gilded breastplate, the horns curving up and around his shoulders.

And he was tall. The tallest man she'd ever seen. Hero was told stories of demi-gods when she was a small child. She never actually believed them to be anything more than tales to scare children. But now she wasn't so sure.

'W-who...'

'On your knees priestess, face the bow.'

She heard the captain snap his fingers. In an instant two soldiers were forcing her to the ground, forcing a rope around her wrists.

'They are coming for you. I can feel it,' the man hissed.

Squinting her eyes, Hero saw the outline of a little boat, heading straight toward them.

* * *

'We can't take them on!' Kian shouted.

'You've just had Spartan training by one of their best living soldiers!' Alexios said. He was trying to lighten the mood.

Kian looked back at him, eyes wide.

'I'm joking,' Alexios replied, ducking the skiff into more populated waters, dodging fishing boats. The great hulking trireme sat patiently in the distance. Eudora was clutching onto the wooden bow so tightly, her fingers were beginning to turn white.

'Eudroa,' Alexios said, softening his voice.

She did not turn around, but Alexios knew that she could hear him. 'We'll get them back. Don't worry. I have been in worse scrapes than this.'

He could see her shoulders drop. What did she know that she wasn't telling them?

'Eagle Bearer!'

The voice rushed across the water, coming up to meet them. 'Eagle Bearer!'

The bellow echoed off the wooden docks. The world around them became very still, the fishermen looking to see where the yell was coming from.

'I have them!'

The cover was not good and they did not blend in. Alexios had paid a few pretty coins for the pleasure of renting the skiff, which had a purple sail, from a particularly ostentatious young lord. In exchange for the exorbitant rate he also agreed to have his slave look after Ikaros and Enyo. They were woefully unprepared for any sort of action.

'Eagle Bearer!'

It was deathly quiet around them now. The fishermen turned their heads at the company as they passed. Alexios kept his head down and rowed. He was in the middle of trying to formulate some kind of plan that involved him, a pre-pubescent translator, and a mute successfully take down a fully armed battle ship, when he saw Eudora stand at the bow.

'No!' he shouted at her. But she had already removed her headscarf and was waving it frantically through the air.

'Eudora!' Alexios shouted again, but she was determined. Kian stared up at her in awe. With her hair loose and the white fabric waving in the wind, she seemed to be some sort of goddess. Reluctantly, Alexios steered them in the direction of the black masts.

'Eagle Bearer!'

'Here!' he called out. 'We are here!'

They were now in the shadow of the great ship, the morning sun slipping behind the sails. Alexios stopped them beside the painted dark eye, and waited. A dark figure loomed over the side of the ship, the crest of his horsehair helmet a black silhouette against the blue sky.

'Eagle Bearer! Here are my prisoners; your prince and Pythia!'

Two guards pulled Hero and Myron to the railing of the ship. A few drops of the prince's blood landed in the water next to the skiff. Alexios felt his heart begin to thrum in his chest, his hand went instinctively to the hilt of his sword.

'I will let them go, in exchange for your Oracle!'

Alexios was puzzled by that. 'You are mistaken, for you have her on your ship!'

'Lies!' the man shouted at them. 'I know which is the real one! You have her with you now. Deliver her to me, and no harm shall befall them!'

Eudora looked over at Alexios, her eyes wide. Hero was the one with a powerful family, and Myron's death would certainly cause a stir in his homeland. Cyrenites would not take kindly to the murder of their prince. But Eudora, what did she matter, really? She was a nobody from a backwater farm in the hills of Delphi. Who would miss her?

'Go to Hades!' shouted Alexios. 'And take your ugly ship with you!'

'Have it your way then!' the dark figure spat down at them.

They were close enough to hear the hiss of the sword sliding out of the scabbard. Eudora covered her mouth as the sword gleamed in the sunlight. Alexios was getting ready to jump onto the side of the trireme, when an arrow came whistling through the air, striking the man through the wrist.

Kian shouted something loudly in another language.

'Jump!' Alexios yelled at the prisoners. 'Jump now!'

Hands tied behind her back, Hero leapt into the water. Myron looked down uneasily. 'JUMP!' Alexios commanded again. The soldiers were beginning to scramble on the deck. Myron followed Hero into the water.

Eudora leaned over the side of the skiff, ensuring that Hero's head was above water. Working with Kian they pulled her into the boat. The prince had landed to the right of their little boat. Alexios reached over to him, but something sliced along his forearm.

Another arrow. Looking up, he saw that some of the black-armoured soldiers were aiming bows an arrows over the side of the ship.

' _Malaka_!' Alexios spat. The prince was desperately trying to keep his head above water. Then, it slipped under.

'No!' Hero screamed. Kian had ripped apart her bonds and she too was at the edge of the skiff. More arrows hit the water around them. Alexios dove into the water.

Everything seemed much more calm beneath the waves. Diving down, he grabbed onto Myron's tunic, hauling him up. They broke the surface, an arrow whistled past his ear. Something was happening. There were more shouts and screams coming from the trireme above their heads.

Myron's eyes were closed. His head lolled to the side. 'Hold on,' Alexios said, pulling them both in the direction of the skiff. Hero and Eudora helped pull him on. The five of them were making the skiff sink deeper into the water.

'Kian! The oar! Grab the oar!' Alexios said, leaning on the side of the boat and pulling himself in. One arrow found its way to the starboard side, humming as it stuck the wood.

'Myron! Myron, wake up!' Hero commanded, slightly slapping the side of his cheek. The Prince opened his eyes, vomiting up seawater.

'Oh, praise Apollo!' Hero yelled, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. But Alexios was still worried for him. He was deathly pale, and the cut above his eye was still bleeding.

'Who are they?' Kian asked, driving the boat away from the massive trireme. Though some soldiers were hurling arrows in their direction, they were also preoccupied with another mark.

'Those peoples,' Kian said, pointing his finger ahead.

In the distance was the Adrestria, in all her shabby glory. Standing at the very end of the bow, was Kassandra, long braids flapping in the wind, the gnarled bow of Artemis pulled taught in her strong arms.


	8. Chapter 8

'The roaring seas and many a dark range of mountains lie between us.'

 _\- The Iliad_

'Get to that ship!' Alexios shouted, his lungs burning.

He watched as Kassandra knocked another arrow on the great bow, aiming it straight at the Dark Commander.

'Do not let them get away!' the man bellowed, reminding his own soldiers to follow the bright-coloured skiff.

Kassandra loosed her arrow. They were close now, the black-sailed ship in serious danger of being rammed in the small harbour.

Arrows whistled by their ears as Alexios pushed the oar with his remaining strength. The cut across his arm dripped blood onto Kian's head, who was helping paddle with his hands. A strong wind blew from the east, lifting their lone sail into the wind, and soon they were flying toward the Adrestria. Kassandra had commanded the oars to stop rowing. They were waiting for them.

'Steady!' Alexios warned as they came closer to the oars of the small trireme. 'Lean back!'

Everyone braced themselves, but Alexios could not slow their momentum down enough. The small skiff smashed into the side of the boat, cracking the bow. Water began rushing in.

'Help!' Hero shouted, standing in the boat as the hem of her tunic became soaked. 'Help us!'

A head appeared over the side of the ship. 'Hello old friend!'

'Barnabas!' Alexios replied. 'Get the ladder down here before we all drown!'

The clattering of the wooden rope ladder down the side of the ship allowed Alexios to sigh deeply in relief. 'Hero, Kian, you first!' he said, motioning to the ladder.

'What about the prince?' she asked.

'I'll carry him up with me. Go!'

Hero promptly bunched her skirts in her hands and began to ascend the rickety ladder. Kian went right up after her. Barnabas was at the top to meet them.

Then, there was another head looking down over them. 'Time is of the essence!' Stentor said, his voice tight.

Looking over his shoulder, he saw that the black-sailed trireme had begun to move toward them.

'Eudroa!' Alexios said. 'Go, Eudroa!'

She shook her head, pointing to the ladder, encouraging him to go instead. 'Go!' Alexios commanded her, reaching down to lift the prince's arm over his shoulder.

More arrows landed in the water surrounding the skiff. 'Eudora, go now!'

'What's taking so long?' shouted Barnabas.

Eudora continued to shake her head. Alexios promptly deposited the prince on the waterlogged floor of the skiff. He gripped her waist with two hands, lifting her up and placing her on the ladder. 'Go, now!' he said. She looked down once more and then began climbing the ladder.

'We need to start pulling back!' Barnabas said.

The oars were going to start moving again. The water in the little boat was now calf deep. 'Are we going to survive?' Myron asked, his eyelids fluttering.

'Of course,' Alexios answered. Then an arrow grazed his calf.

He cried out. The Adrestria began to move.

'Alexios.'

It was a woman's voice. The wound in his calf felt hot, but there was no pain.

'Alexios.'

His vision cleared, he looked down, he placed Myron's arm around his own shoulders. It was as though he'd left his own body. He saw himself latch onto the ladder. He saw himself climbing it.

Then he was being pulled and pulled. And suddenly they were on the deck. And he snapped back into himself. 'Bloody Zeus!' he yelled.

Eudora kneeled beside him, using a rag to sop up the blood from the wound. A figure stood over the pair, watching them with a curious expression.

'Well, well, brother. Who knew the fabled Eagle Bearer would need so much saving?' Kassandra said, folding her arms. 'I want all of our sails down! Let's go men, or we'll all be sharing flagons of wine on the Styx tonight!'

* * *

He woke with a jolt. For a moment he wondered if he were back in his warm bed on Kephallonia. If this had all been some terrible dream. But then he felt the steady rocking of the Adrestria, and he allowed himself to close his eyes and sigh deeply.

Sitting up, he looked around, noting his familiar quarters. The room was small, but comfortable. On a ship, any dry place was well enough to sleep. Glancing to his left, he saw the prince was lying on a cot next to him. His dark skin was still a sallow colour, the wound at his temple swollen and bruised, but he dozed there peacefully.

Alexios tried stretching his own calf. The pain was not bad. Pulling back the sheet, he saw that it was packed with herbs and gauze. He had an inkling of whose careful handiwork it was.

He stood, bracing himself against the edge of the wall, and quietly exited the room, being careful to shut the door quietly.

Passing the rowing stations, he saw that none of the men were at their oars. That meant that they had picked up a fair wind and were making good time. Being careful with the weight he put on his calf, he climbed the tiny ladder through the porthole.

The deck of the Adrestria was bustling with activity. Hero and Kian were sitting against the railing of the boat, helping Barnabas mend some fishing nets. Scanning the rest of the familiar faces, Alexios landed finally on Eudroa, who was being engaged in conversation by Stentor.

'I tried telling him she was mute, but I think that only encouraged him,' Kassandra said, coming to stand beside him.

'He finally found someone who has to listen to his stories of Spartan training camps,' Alexios added. 'How did you find us?'

By some strange luck, Kassandra had come down from Delphi to resupply in Athens. She explained this as they toured the length of the ship.

'Naturally, when I heard the greatest of Greek men had pulled into port that day, I had a feeling you'd find yourself in a bit of a scrape,' she said, quirking up the corner of her mouth. 'What strange enemies you've collected over the past year… and stranger company,' she said, nodding to Eudora.

Eudora was leaning against the railing of the ship, looking out at the surf, the veil blowing back over her light gold hair. Stentor stood beside her, gesturing out at the blue horizon.

Alexios scoffed. 'It can't be helped. I'm always being dragged into these things one way or another.'

'What is she?' Kassandra asked.

Alexios shrugged. 'A priestess…. I think.'

'Their soldiers were raining down arrows on you. The fact that none of you were seriously wounded… Except for you and the Cyrenite... Iif I were a rleigious woman I would call it a miracle'. She swallowed, nodding down to the wound in his leg. A little further down and you could have been the next Achilles,' his sister teased.

'Like you said… it is strange.'

Kassandra shook her head impatiently. 'Well you've done it now. We'll have the hounds of Hades at our heels for the next few days. Do you have a plan?'

'None whatsoever.'

'Excuse me… Captain?'

Kassandra looked over her shoulder at Hero, who stood wringing her hands. 'I am not sure if it is on the way… my father, well… he owns quite a bit of land on the island of Aegina. We would be more than welcome to stay there for a time. I think it would be good for the prince as well.'

'Barnabas!' shouted Kassandra.

'Yes?'

'Set a course for Aegina. It seems we might find some respite there.'

'Right away. Won't be long. I like Aegina. Pastoral, but very charming!' he said said, walking away to command the helm.

'So,' Kassandra began. 'How _did_ you get roped into this?'

'It's a very long story,' Alexios replied, 'and I need to rescue Eudora before Stentor takes away her sense of hearing as well.'

Kassandra eyed him wearily, knowing that there was more to everyone than met the eye. Eventually, she settled for sighing and shrugging in defeat. 'Whatever you say, brother.'

She slapped him on the shoulder as she walked off to scold some of her crew. Alexios supposed they were actually his crew, but Kassandra manned the Adrestria with such purpose and efficiency, he couldn't help but picture her owning it in another life.

A soft touch on his arm shook him from his thoughts. He spun around, nearly knocking Eudora to her feet. Her caught her before she tumbled back. 'Sorry!' he said quickly.

Their noses brushed against one another as Alexios tried to lift her to a standing position. For a brief moment he thought about brushing his lips against hers, running his hands through her long, golden hair.

He coughed, abruptly setting her down. She smoothed out the short folds of her tunic, blushing heartily.

'Thank you,' Alexios said, attempting to break the tension. He pointed down to his ankle.

She looked down and then back up at him, smiling. She shrugged her shoulders, suggesting that it was not a problem. He returned her smile, wondering how he'd become so befuddled over the past few days. How he'd become so entranced. He tucked a stray golden curl behind her ear, brushing a callused thumb over her cheek, as smooth as Naxian marble.

 _Strange woman_ , he thought. _What god produced you?_

'Alexios!'

Kian was brandishing a real sword this time, holding it up in the air and waving it about. 'I've graduated from wooden practice ones!' he said, beaming. 'Will you help me practice?'

Instead of replying, Alexios unsheathed his own short sword, happy for the distraction. 'Into your stance solider!'

Kian furrowed his brow, looking as serious as he could manage, his mouth betraying him with a tight smirk. Alexios and Kian tapped the iron blades against one another lightly, practicing different positions. He allowed himself to become fully immersed, ensuring that he was going slowly enough for Kian to catch up, keeping his mind from wondering.

If what the prince said was true then he was going to need to keep far away from her. He was beginning not to trust himself.

* * *

Hero was dabbing a wound on the Prince's forehead with a damp cloth when his eyes blinked open.

'A goddess,' he whispered.

She chuckled. 'What was that, my lord?'

He did not reply, instead closing his eyes once more. The swelling in his face had gone down considerably. Hero was now willing to admit to herself that she thought of him as handsome. When it happened, she was not quite sure. Wiping his face, she found her fingers itching to squeeze his hand, her hips longing to press against his side.

She knew well enough that these things were not entirely up to her.

She had known men before. It was not an uncommon thing; some of the other priestesses had taken lovers over the years. Powerful royals, diplomats, warriors, and statesmen visited the Pythia for counsel, yes, but the women who served Apollo were also renowned for their culture and beauty. And the old adage about ruining a priestess's foresight along with her maidenhead was fable at best.

Hero smiled to herself. How could you lose something you'd never had?

'Hero?' Myron asked. His eyes opened fully now.

She hummed in response.

'What day is it?'

'I am not sure,' she replied, dipping the rag in the water. 'I think we are almost at my home- perhaps another day or so.'

'Ah, I see. You are not hurt?'

She shook her head. 'Nothing as bad as you. I feel quite well actually. I am usually more seasick, but I have been able to keep some bread down. Shall I get you some?'

'I think… I think I could manage that.'

Hero nodded her head and moved to stand. The prince caught her arm.

Wait,' he whispered.

The air smelled of ocean brine and damp wood mingled with the scent of Hero's sandalwood perfume. 'For what?' she asked coyly.

Myron lifted his head to meet her lips.

* * *

At first, Eudora went to turn away, but then she stopped herself. She knew that eavesdropping was considered wrong, but she could not help it. She watched as Hero leaned over Myron's body, pressing a hand to his chest. He wrung his bruised fingers through her dark mane, his fingernails still crusted with dirt and blood.

She wondered sometimes about the invisible bonds that drove people together. She never learned the art of seduction; mostly because she was afraid of losing her gifts.

And men seemed to be frightened of her anyhow. Some would make the sign of the evil eye when she passed, other averted their gaze. Eudora let out a sigh. She still longed to be wanted, to be touched. She thought about it more often since… She had better go.

Stepping back, she knocked over a terracotta lantern that was perched on an old bucket. It shattered, leaking expensive oil on the ship's wooden belly.

'Eudora?'

It was Hero. Eudora looked up at her and then down at the shattered remains of the lamp, her cheeks blooming red.

'Let me help,' Hero offered, bending down. Her hair was mussed and lips appeared to be swollen.

 _I came down to get out of the sun_ Eudora signed. _I did not want to disturb you._

'You didn't intrude. I was just dressing the prince's wounds…' she trailed off, breaking into a light laugh, shaking her head. 'Well, I suppose I am found out!'

Eudora smiled as well. _A handsome man! Good catch!_

'Oh hush you,' her friend admonished. She paused for a moment. 'It has been ages, hasn't it?'

Eudora shrugged.

'Since I've been with anyone, I mean.'

Eudora remained silent as she fashioned her headscarf as a bag to hold the little red pieces of the lantern. Hero reached out, grabbing hold of Eudora's forearm.

'You are allowed, Eudora,' she said, lowering her voice. 'No harm will come of it.'

Eudora felt her cheeks burning. She shook her head.

'Are you not tired of being afraid?' she asked. 'Have you not ever wondered…?'

Eudora shook her head again, starting down at her headscarf, watching the fragrant oil drip through the fabric.

 _Not afraid_ , Eudora wanted to protest. But then, that would not be quite true, would it?

 _I need to go_ , Eudora signed, gathering up the leaking headscarf.

'Wait!' Hero said, holding onto Eudora's forearm. 'Oh, I'm sorry Eudora. I… I suppose I just want you to be happy. But, that is… I also understand why you feel the way you do. You were never like any of us. You are special, as special as you are dear.'

With that she pulled Eudora into a tight embrace. She buried her face into her friend's neck, still clutching her headscarf. 'We must keep you safe,' Hero whispered. 'In every way.'


	9. Chapter 9

_'Sleep, delicious and profound, the very counterfeit of death'_

\- Homer, _The Odyssey_

They arrived at Aegina under the cover of a cool night. The wind was fair, and as far as anyone was concerned, their attackers were far behind them. It had all been planned. The _Adrestria_ would be docked and tucked away somewhere secret to help them hide. The crew had been too long without respite and everyone was eager for time on dry land.

Alexios had woken Kian from his sleeping roll on the dock.

'We have arrived,' he said softly.

The boy yawned and pawed Alexios' hand away. 'Dreaming… leave me be,' he protested lightly, murmuring something in Persian.

Alexios sighed, looking up at the stars. Millions of bright pin pricks dotted the darkness. A light hand touched his shoulder. Craning his neck around he saw Eudora standing just behind him. She pointed upwards.

'Lyra,' he replied, tracing his index finger through the sky. 'The lyre'.

She nodded her head, furrowing her brow and tilting her head.

'If my mother were here, she would tell us that it is an auspicious time to indulge ourselves in some feasting and music,' he said.

Eudora's face immediately brightened. She pointed to herself.

'You play?'

She nodded her head fervently.

'Then you must play for us Eudora!' a roaring voice bellowed from behind them, interrupting their conversation. It was Stentor, swaggering over to join in. He offered Eudora his hand to pull her up to her feet. She took it, her smile becoming more strained.

The boat shook as it docked into port. A few of the crewmates lit torches, bathing the wood in a soft light. Stentor eyed Eudora appreciatively in the dim light.

Alexios fought the sudden urge he had to clock him square in the jaw. The boat pitched forward suddenly as they came to a complete stop. Eudora stumbled forward; Alexios and Stentor steadying her on either side. 'May I escort you off, priestess?' asked his half-brother gallantly.

Eudora smiled at him, tipping her head down in acquiescence. He took one of her delicate hands in the crook of her arm. Watching them leave, Alexios walked over to the railing, surveying what he could see of the land below them.

There was a party that had ridden out to meet them, holding torches aloft.

'Who are they?' Kian asked, coming to stand beside him, rubbing his eyes gingerly.

'I believe they are Hero's family. Her father is a prominent man on this island. His household will give us shelter for the next few days.'

'Maybe he can get Enyo back for us?' Kian asked. Alexios couldn't ignore the dribble of hope in his voice.

'I think the fisherman that gave us his boat will have good use of her,' Alexios answered. 'There will be other horses Kian. Big chargers out of Macedonia and quick, fine-boned ones from the East.'

The boy sighed heavily, 'I hope so.'

Alexios laughed, clapping the boy on the back. 'It's a good lesson to learn now! Women and horses; may you fall in love more than once, lad.'

'Daughter! Daughter!'

An old man's voice rolled over the dark waves to the ship. Both Kian and Alexios turned their heads to the crowd of onlookers. 'Father!' Hero called out. Alexios noticed that she had been standing quite close to Myron. He chuckled lightly to himself.

'Well met daughter!'

Hero's father was an imposing man, tall and wide, wearing armor that was slightly too tight. His grey hair was wicked with sweat, they had ridden hard to come and meet them. The crowd backed away from the father and daughter embrace.

Kassandra was ready to disembark, watching the pair closely.

'Nestor of Aegina, we ask your permission to come onshore!' she said.

Hero stepped aside as Nestor walked forward. 'What brings such an Amazon to my shores? Am I to receive the whole bloody mythology? Is it true that you bring the Eagle Bearer with you? I've also heard rumors of a Prince and a woman touched by the gods.'

'Well let us down and we will show you for yourself.'

'Ha!' Nestor readjusted his sword belt around his considerable girth. 'Yes, yes, everyone come down. I myself observe the laws of Greek hospitality. You won't want for anything here- especially bringing my Hero home safe.'

Kassandra was impressive in her golden Achilles armor. She liked to make a grand entrance. She jumped onto dry land off the side of the ship, beginning the long procession of crew and passengers. Nestor was there, observing everyone with a shred eye.

'Oh, what have we here?' he asked, stopping Stentor and Eudora. 'Another priestess?'

'Eudora was my dear friend at the temple father,' Hero interjected.

Nestor narrowed his eyes, standing in front of her. He examined her like one might do to a goat they were planning on purchasing. Alexios half expected him to look at her teeth. Instead he brought a meaty knuckle under her chin, gently tipping her face up to meet his.

Alexios braced himself. A cold wind whipped up suddenly, causing his forearms to break into gooseflesh. The crowd grew eerily silent.

Much to everyone's surprise, Nestor gathered her up in his arms and nearly lifted her up off of the ground. 'Welcome, child of Apollo! Tomorrow night we will sacrifice a bull in your honor!'

The atmosphere immediately brightened, excited murmurs bubbled up from the crowd. 'But first, you must rest. Hero, take her with you to your chambers.'

Eudora was spirited away and the rest of the crew fell into a long line, carrying packs over their shoulders and lumbering along up Aegina's rough coastline. Kian and Alexios were some of the last off the ship. Sharp rocks bit at their feet as they climbed the rocky passage to Nestor's farmland.

The horizon began to brighten as they picked their way along the well-worn path.

'I will sleep for two days,' Kian muttered.

'Not long now,' Alexios replied, nodding his head to a fortress in the distance. Sheep and goats brayed as the ramshackle crew passed.

'Is it true then? That the gods speak through her?' Barnabas had lingered behind, waiting for Alexios and Kina to catch up. The old man slung his arm around Alexios' shoulders. 'That she can set men on fire and call up windstorms?'

Alexios laughed. 'Why don't you ask her yourself?'

Barnabas let out a low whistle. 'I'm not fit to speak with one of her kind. I'll have my women rounder, louder, and down on this earth thank you very much.

Kian laughed loudly at that. 'Don't encourage him,' Alexios warned the boy, though he himself was also smiling.

'Fool with her and you'll end up in a myth Alexios! The bards will sing about how she turned you into shale stone,' Barnabas warned. He pointed a finger at Kian, 'Beware these holy women lad. More trouble than they are worth in my opinion. Just look at old king Agamemnon.'

'Oh, those are just stories!' Kian retorted.

'So you think! One moment you're trying to steal a kiss and the next you're turning into a laurel tree!'

'Don't give that boy any ideas,' Alexios said. 'He won't be stealing any kisses on this trip. Too heartbroken after a mare we left behind in Athens.'

Barnabas carried on for the rest of the walk to the fortress, espousing tales about an Arab horse he raced on in faraway deserts. Kian was listening, rapt. Alexios was glad to listen for a while, letting his mind drift to mysterious lands beyond the Greece's olive boughs. As they entered the large stone gates the sudden flurry of activity snapped Alexios back to present time.

'Eagle-bearer,' a young man dressed in a plain tunic approached the company. 'Most of the crew will be sleeping in the stables, but I have strict instructions to take you to the main palace. Your boy can join as well.'

Alexios and Kian said their good byes to Barnabas and followed the servant up a winding set of stairs. The sun was now beginning to rise over the ocean, a wink of light spreading across the green meadows. The palace was well-built and fortified, appeasing Nestor's military sensibilities.

The higher they went, the more elegant the architecture became. There were pergolas weighed down by thick vines of grapes and delicate ionic columned porticoes choked by ivy. When they finally reached the top of the palace, they were met with a large reflecting pool, surrounded by perfectly polished white marble. Birds flitted between lemon trees. The pool was flanked by colonnaded porticoes, sheltering wooden doors.

'Wow,' Kian said.

'Indeed,' the servant replied. 'This will be your room,' he said, gesturing to a small vestibule tucked away behind a screen of grape leaves.

Kian immediately dropped his pack on the marble floor, collapsing the small sleeping palette on the floor. There was a larger mattress atop a wood frame that was meant for Alexios. Kian was already asleep when he handed a coin to the servant.

'Where does your master sleep?' he asked.

The young man quirked an eyebrow at him. 'On the other side of the palace.'

'And the priestesses?' Alexios added.

The man was silent until he fished another coin from his satchel. The servant's voice lowered to a whisper. 'He will be keeping them close to him. My master is a cautious man and understands what they are worth. I would be careful though. We have had many visitors petitioning my master for their good favor. Some… less than savory characters have visited Aegina in the past months.'

'What do you mean? Alexios pressed.

The servant shrugged his shoulders. 'This is a prominent man with a large army. Many seek his favour.'

'What did these men look like?'

The servant shrugged again. 'Nothing of particular note. They all work dark leather armor.'

* * *

Eudora woke in a sweat. Heart pounding, she sat up in bed, holding her arms out, making sure that she was free of them. _Dream, dream, dream_ she thought over and over in her head. _It was only a dream… only a dream._

Hero stirred beside her, turning to face the other way. Eudora's heart was thrumming in her chest.

'My lady?' a servant asked in a low voice. 'My lady, are you alright?'

Eudora managed a small smile and nodded her head. Last night she had been packed off to Hero's old living quarters, in the heart of the gynakum. The room was large and airy, the smell of oranges and lemons drifted in from outdoors. After being surrounded by men for the past month, she was very happy to be bathed, have her hair braided, and be given long tunics to wear again.

In fact, she was not keen to see any of her companions. She was hoping to take the day to spin wool and weave, giving herself time to try to puzzle out all of the facts that had been laid before her.

But now there was no chance of that.

She needed to find Alexios and tell him what she had seen. She motioned to the servant to help her dress, and soon she was wearing a light green tunic and headscarf. The servant followed her out into the garden, but Eudora stopped her. The young woman seemed confused, but then bowed her head and went to join Hero.

All Greek highborn ladies had a gynakum where they were separated from the men. Even her poor mother and father had a separate room in their old farmhouse, painted a light blue with stylized swallows stenciled onto the plaster. There Eudora's mother received women from around town with all sorts of maladies, teaching Eudora the power of herbs to heal.

Eudora missed those days, the softness of them, dearly. She ran her hand along the columns of Nestor's palace as she passed from the women's quarters into the men's. It became obvious to her; the architecture was much sharper, the retaining walls there for utility rather than beauty.

She did not need to know where she was going, an invisible thread was tugging her along.

Eventually she found Kian, using a stick to worry some exotic fish in a reflecting pool. He waved when he saw her approach.

'Good morning!' he called.

 _Where is he?_ Eudora asked. They had not yet come up with a symbol for Alexios.

'He is still asleep,' Kian answered.

Eudora sighed, settling down next to the boy. Hearing a loud cry, she looked above her head to see that Ikaros had planted himself in a nearby tree.

'He's doing his best to fly again,' Kian said, answering her silent question.

Eudora was growing impatient, the morning heat already making her sweat through her tunic. She wanted to stamp her foot impatiently. With a huff she stood, striding toward the wooden vestibule. She knocked on it heavily, hoping that would wake him.

'Gods above Kian!' she heard Alexios shout. 'I asked for peace this morning!'

The door was nearly ripped from its hinges as Alexios wrenched it open. Eudora stood in the doorframe, arranging her lips into a sheepish smile, her palms turned upward in apology. Alexios was wearing a plain tunic, his long dark hair mussed from sleep. He leaned against the doorjamb as he regarded her.

'What is it now?' he asked. 'Was it your dream? Because I saw them too.'


	10. Chapter 10

"…There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover's whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad."

Homer, the Iliad

The best thing we can do is give ourselves time to rest,' Alexios said. It sounded as though he were trying to convince himself of the fact.

Eudora sighed, frustrated with him. She had been dipping her feet into the reflecting pool, wetting the hem of her long tunic. She folded her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

'Eudora,' he said softly, reaching for her arm, 'we will get through. We are not in any immediate danger. We have no clues as to where this sacred helmet lies. We have no strategy moving forward. It will be good to give ourselves a few days to think… you will see.'

Refusing to look him in the eye, she shook her head, intently staring at the pool. Kian was moving around them, kicking rocks into the water, wielding his stick like a sword against an invisible enemy.

'Eudora,' Alexios tried again, but she stood suddenly, whipping the wet hem of her tunic against the marble tiles.

She began signing furiously at him, but Alexios could not make out the language. 'Kian!' he called, in a bid to get the boy's attention.

'What?' he asked.

It was already too late, Eudora was stamping off. 'Nevermind,' Alexios muttered.

Then Eudora spun around and jabbed a finger at the both of them. Her fingers began twisting into different symbols.

'Kian!' Alexios called once more.

'Huh?' the boy asked.

The warrior gestured roughly to the priestess, but it was too late. Eudora had finished her tirade, with all the pomp of a highborn lady she gathered up her skirts and bounded back off to the women's quarters, as lithe and beautiful as a nymph.

'What was she so angry about?' Kian asked, becoming quickly distracted by Ikaros flailing in a tree.

'She was worried that we are walking into danger… but I could not catch all of it…'

Kian was incredulous. 'Who would come for us here? Especially now that Hero and that Prince are to be married.'

'Who told you that?'

Kian shrugged, 'Some of the soldiers were joking about it on our walk to the palace.'

Alexios shook his head. 'There might be something in that you know. Nestor now has the power of the Cyrenite fleet at the crook of his finger. That alone should be enough to scare off any potential attackers, forget the fortress and army.'

'And the demi-god,' Kian adding, smirking a little.

Alexios quirked an eyebrow at the boy. He stood, brushing dust from his tunic. While Kian was distractedly twirling his stick, Alexios plucked it from his hand and wielded it around until the pointed end was centimeters away from the boy's chest. 'And don't you forget it,' he replied.

Kian nodded, wide-eyed. Alexios chuckled to himself as he went to resume his sleep.

* * *

Eudora ran through the palace, skidding horribly around sharp corners and nearly knocking into a poor washer-woman carrying a basket of fresh laundry on her head. She wanted desperately to cry, to scream, to barrel against the walls in frustration. She had always been horrified that she would one day turn into Cassandra, doomed to watch the world burn without anyone believing her.

 _Am I wrong?_ She asked herself.

But deep in her conscience she felt the darkness looming. _No_ , it whispered. _No_.

When she had finally ensconced herself in the _gynakeum_ again she leaned against the door and took in a shaky breath. She wiped impatiently at the tears stinging her cheeks.

'What's happened?'

Looking up, Eudora saw Hero running toward her. There were a few ladies in waiting following.

Eudora help up a hand to them, as if to say she was okay, but with her headdress askew and cheeks blazing red, she was sure that she was not fooling anybody.

'Has someone hurt you?' Hero asked, gathering her friend into her arms.

Eudora shook her head vigorously. _I am worried_... she began to sign, but gave up. She was not sure that Hero would believe her either.

'Come,' Hero said, dragging Eudora to a couch heaped with pillow. 'Phaedra will fetch us tea, wine, and honeycakes.'

Eudora plunked down on the couch, removing her headscarf and running her hands through the mass of curls. She could feel the tears ebbing as Hero's servant placed delicate goblets filled with spiced wine and a pile of warm honeycakes before her. She'd forgotten that she hadn't eaten breakfast until then.

Closing her eyes, she pictured herself back in Delphi, before everything had happened. She knew better now. Eudora would never again wish for adventure or status. She only wanted to be boring, and plain, and ordinary.

'I think I know what... or whom may be bothering you...' Hero began, the ghost of a smile creasing her full lips.

Eudora cocked her head.

'I think that we should put you on display tonight my love!' Hero said, flushed with sudden inspiration. She stood up, offering a hand to Eudora. 'I am going to dress you in beautiful lavender robes and gold jewelry... that will certainly make them all shut their mouths.'

Hero pulled on her arm, forcing Eudora to her feet once more. She dragged her into the sleeping vestibule. The sun reflected off the marble of the courtyard and the wind rustled sheer drapery hanging from the ceiling.

'Bring me my favorite purple gowns,' Hero commanded. 'We are feasting tonight. I was us to look as fit as queens.'

Eudora was beginning to feel dizzy. She reached for a honeycake as one of the servants carried the platter by. She stuffed it into her mouth, licking the sticky sweetness off her fingers.

'Look at this one,' Hero said.

Eudora had never seen a purple so dark. She was afraid to touch the fabric, that draped over Hero's hands like butter melting in the hot sun. Eudora squinted her eyes, the dizziness was returning. There was something about the dress that was making her feel ill, like she did not want to get close to it.

'What's wrong?' Hero asked pointedly.

Eudora forced a smile. She shook her head.

But in her mind's eye she kept seeing them… armies of dark men overrunning the palace, climbing the walls like black, beady insects. She wiped the sweat off of her forehead when Hero turned to lift another gown out her servant's arms. Something bad was going to happen tonight.

She just knew it.

* * *

Nestor slew the bull himself. The great, hulking black beast fell to the ground with a loud grunt, the blood from its neck spraying onto the white marble flagstones in the courtyard. There was polite applause as he turned to a slave who was holding a great gold basin, calmly washing his hands. It was clear that as a rich, powerful man, he'd partaken in this ritual many times before.

Alexios tamped down the queasy feeling in his belly. Sacrifices always made him feel ill... something about the animal not knowing it was being led to slaughter.

'Pretty much similar to the ones we have back home,' Kian mentioned casually. 'But with far more wine and song and laughter.'

'That will come,' Alexios said. 'Us Greeks like to have fun as well.'

'Not the Cyrenites,' Kian said. 'They are so gloomy and full of learning. Stern about everything. I am ready for a bit of fun!'

Alexios clapped him on the shoulder. 'Not too much fun. We will sail in a day, don't forget.'

Kian waved him off, going in search of boys his own age. Alexios watched him weave through the crowds and smiled to himself. He'd let Kian on a long leash tonight. In fact, he himself needed a long leash. It had been some months since he'd been at a gathering like this, and the wine was sweet.

'Hello hello!'

Myron greeted Alexios with a traditional Greek handshake.

'Looks like our plan worked!' Alexios remarked.

Myron's already ruddy cheeks grow darker. 'No talk of business tonight, I've been told so by Nestor. We are supposed to sit down tomorrow and discuss terms. And I thought getting the idea of Hero to marry me was the difficult part.'

'I don't envy you there,' Alexios agreed. He eyed Myron leaning against a statue of Aphrodite; some fat dribbles of blood were visible around the sleeves of his tunic.

'What of you?' Myron asked.

'Hmm?'

'Do you have a wish to marry?' the young Prince asked earnestly.

The wine in his cup seemed to sour. 'I haven't met someone who has tempted me into it.'

'Really?'

'Truly,' Alexios answered. 'You're marrying the one handsome creature I've encountered on this foray. And an ex-priestess at that. It's a good match, Myron. One you should be proud of.'

'Oh believe me, I am proud!' he said, his wide smile returning. 'It's funny,' he began, 'I thought that you had an interest in the golden-haired lass. I suppose-'

Alexios waved him off. 'She nearly killed me with a lightning strike, believe me when I say that I have no interest in-'

'Good evening.' Alexios immediately recognized the voice as Hero's. 'I've been looking everywhere for you!'

Hero was draped in a dark purple confection, looking every inch the heiress with her hair twisted up in laurel leaves. She was beaming at her intended, bronzed and beautiful from the days spent on the trireme's deck. Standing on her tip-toes she kissed Myron full on the mouth. Alexios looked away, but something caught his gaze.

Eudora was standing in the shadow of a pergola, away from the party. He walked toward her.

'Why are you tucked away here?' he whispered to her.

She dashed back deeper into the shadows, until she was pressed up against the marble wall. Alexios found himself chuckling. 'Get a sunburn did you? Did Hero attempt to dye your hair?'

He saw her silhouette shaking her head.

'Well, better come with me then. The feast is in your honour, you know that don't you?' He held out a hand to her.

Tentatively, Eudora stepped forward into a sliver of torchlight, placing her small hand in his. Alexios felt his heart thrum in his chest. If Hero was dressed like an earthly heiress, than Eudora was an otherworldly beauty. She had left her hair long and curling to the middle of her back, unrestrained by a stiff headdress. Her green eyes were rimmed in khol, making her gaze appear dark and sultry. She also wore purple fabric, but it washed over her body like water, clinging to every dip and curve.

'Zeus almighty,' Alexios choked out.

She immediately shrank back into the corridor. Then before he knew it, she was running off into the night.

'Wait!' he called after her, 'Eudora, wait!'

* * *

What a stupid mistake it had been to let Hero dress her. The ladies' maids had fawned over her, telling her what a beauty she was, but she knew that anyone who took one look at her would think her some kind of witch. She'd never let her hair down before, and the fabric she wore was far less modest than the Spartan kore's uniform, though it was three times' the length.

She'd drank four cups of spiced wine. But that made her feel queasy as opposed to brave.

 _Hussy,_ she heard that old goat Media whisper horribly. _You don't deserve your gifts_.

She came to a stop at a fountain, shrouded by large planters filled with cedar trees. It was quiet here, the party nothing more than a distant murmur.

'Gods, when did you get to be so fast?' Alexios asked.

She spun around, getting ready to run once more, but he reached for her upper arm, holding her firmly in place. 'Don't run,' he commanded softly. 'There's nothing to fear. Your prophecy has not come true.'

She looked up at him and drew in a deep breath, preparing to exhale into an exasperated sigh. But before she could finish, the warrior drew his lips to hers.

Eudora had been kissed once before, by a shepherd boy before she was sent to the temple. It was a sedate, innocent kiss. Not like this. This kiss was all-consuming passion; unbridled and dangerous. 'Open your mouth,' he said and she obeyed.

'What a beautiful creature you are,' he murmured against her mouth. Then he gripped the straps of her gown. 'Let me look upon you.'

Eudora found herself nodding. _Yes, yes, yes_ was the beat in her head. And then suddenly she was bare. In a garden. For all of her foresight, she could have never predicted this.

 _There is nothing to fear_ , she remembered Hero saying to her. And there wasn't. The gods were about to rain down their holy fire on them. The men in their black leather were close to killing them all. Was it so wrong to want a small taste of something forbidden?

Soon the cool marble of the bench was pressing into her back. She ran her fingers over the warrior's chest. He shivered, pressing his face into her hair. If there was one surprise it was the sharp pain and then the sudden lack of it. And how quickly it was all over.

Alexios folded her body around his, then promptly fell asleep.

Eudora eventually drifted off herself.

She woke to the sound of gravel crunching under sandals. Eudora stiffened, ready to run. But Alexios' breath ruffled her hair. He had not heard it.

'Do not turn around.' It was a woman's voice. It sounded strange, as though she were speaking through the wind. As though her one voice were a thousand voices in one.

'Who are you?' Eudora asked. She reached up to touch her mouth. How was this possible?

'You must listen, for I am now your only hope. Apollo has abandoned you. Your company is in grave danger.'

'I know it,' Eudora replied. 'I know that they are coming.'

'The Dark One will find you eventually, but not this day. I have put a cloak over you, and he will not sense where you are. But you must leave.'

'Where am I to go?'

'To the Daughters of Chronos. Your sisters who worship the god of time. They will test you. It is there, and only there, that you will find what you seek.'

'I will leave now,' Eudora said.

'Hush, you are still sleeping. Tarry a little, until I leave.'

'As you wish.'

'There is one thing I ask of you, child.'

'Tell me.'

'Your first born son. You must promise him to me.'

Eudora found herself hesitating. Was this real?

'I will raise him up to be a great warrior. One that will be sung about for ages to come.'

What choice did she have? 'Protect me, and you will have your wish.'

A cold wind woke her from her sleep, breaking her skin into gooseflesh. Her head felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds and her joints ached from the hard, stone bench. Alexios snored peacefully beside her. _What had happened?_ Eudora wondered, touching her lips once more. They were swollen from the night before.

Reaching down beside her, she gathered up the dress, shaking it out so there were no pieces of loose gravel in it. Then she placed it over her head, allowing it to drape across her body. It was no travelling garment. But there was no time to find anything else; she had to leave.

As she had done so many times before, she hiked her skirts up and bounded out of the garden. The palace was like a maze, but the sun was just peaking over the horizon and the torches were close to going out.

'Well, well, well.'

Eudora skidded to a halt. Kassandra, dressed in man's tunic, was perched on a stone wall. She jumped down to inspect her, one hand still grasping a flagon of wine.

'I saw you run off with my brother last night. Stentor will certainly be disappointed.' Her eyes roved over Eudora's disheveled appearance. The priestess felt her cheeks bloom from the stare. Then she remembered herself.

'I need your help,' she said.

Kassandra's eyes widened. 'What did you just _say_?'

'There is no time to explain. Please.'


	11. Chapter 11

"No man or woman born, coward or brave, can shun his destiny."  
― Homer, the Iliad

Alexios woke thinking that his head might split open. The sun was rising over the cedar trees, a bird was chattering happily in one of its branches. The warrior slowly sat up. Old wounds ached far more generously when he'd had a little too much wine.

The fountain glugged water, a marble goddess was kneeling, pouring out her ever-flowing pot into the surrounding pond. Alexios splashed some water on his face, taking a sip of some. It tasted cold and metallic.

 _Was it a dream?_ He wondered.

It might as well have been. Eudora, beautiful and brazen, was nowhere to be seen. He closed his eyes, remembering how her brow had furrowed, how she bit her lip when-

'There you are!'

Kian marched over to him, Hero in tow.

'Where is Eudora?' she asked pointedly. Her hair was mussed, there were remnants of khol around her eyelids. She looked as though the prince had thoroughly enjoyed her the previous evening.

'I saw you with her,' she accused, her voice rising. 'I saw you chase her into the garden. Now where has she gone?'

Alexios rubbed his temples. It was far too early to be dealing with shrill women, in his opinion. 'Oh don't excite yourself priestess. I'm no worse than that god you worship so well.'

Kian snorted.

'May he forgive us then… and you most of all,' she said, hurling a gob of spit to the ground, next to his sandal.

Alexios was in no mood for this. He stood to his full height. 'I gave her nothing she didn't ask for,' he replied.

'No!' Hero cried. 'We _are_ doomed! And we have you to blame for it!' She was quickly becoming hysterical, tears brimming her eyes, hair wild and flowing about her head. 'We have lost everything!'

'What's going on here?' Myron had entered the garden, eyebrows raised at the scene. Hero promptly threw herself into his arms. 'Eudora has gone! And we no longer have the fortune of Apollo on our side!'

Myron laughed loudly. 'Oh gods, we _never_ had him on our side. Those are all just stories.' He looked around for support, but no one could seem to meet his gaze.

'Well… she did cast down lightning on those soldiers…' Kian added slowly.

'Where would she have gone?' Alexios asked, more to himself than anyone.

'What does it matter now?' Hero asked, desolate. 'We are all ruined.'

The loud bray of a trumpet caused everyone to look toward the palace. It happened again, louder. Hero's face drained of colour.

'What does that mean?' asked Myron.

Hero did not answer him, instead she began running up the path to the palace. 'Hades take these women and their quick feet,' Alexios muttered to himself.

When the horn sounded again she stopped abruptly, turning so she was facing the sea. On the slope they had a clear view of the green-blue waters which surrounded the island. Today they were marred by the sight of a fleet of ships approaching. All with black sails.

'Gods above,' Kian murmured.

Alexios felt his heartbeat thump in his chest. 'We need to move. Now.'

'Now!' he yelled again when everyone remained still. He grabbed Kian's arm and began hauling him up the hill.

'H-how did they find us?' the boy asked, breaking out into a run as they climbed a steep stairway.

'I have no idea. There's something amiss.'

As they approached Nestor's high walls he noticed servants and guests frantically moving about. Dressed in only a tunic, Alexios was ill equipped for battle. He needed his sword.

'To our rooms Kian,' he commanded. Giving the boy a task would calm him down. 'You'll need a shortsword as well,' he added.

Men from around the castle were buckling swords around their waists and sliding armour over their heads. Alexios was heartened to see some men from the Adrestria, even more so when he found Barnabas.

'I thought this was supposed to be a respite!' he called out happily. 'Looks like we are never far from some sort of trouble, eh?'

'Where's Kassandra?' Alexios asked.

He shrugged his shoulders. 'I thought she was with you.'

'Zeus' cock,' Alexios spat.

'What's all this about then?' Stentor had pushed his way into the conversation, infuriating Alexios further.

'We can't find your devil of a half-sister,' Barnabas said casually. 'Don't worry, she's probably off with some serving maid.'

'No she's not, she's run off with the priestess,' Stentor replied, matter-of-fact.

' _What_?' Alexios roared.

The company took a step back.

'I know, I was confused as well,' Stentor said, shrugging his shoulders. 'I thought that she wanted-'

'Hold your tongue,' Alexios commanded. 'Something has happened, Eudora and Kassandra have left and now we are about to be sieged by that warrior in the black armour.'

'She must have known!' Kian said. 'She knew something bad was going to happen here. That's what she was trying to warn us about!'

'We can't stay here,' Alexios said. 'Tell the men of the Adrestria. Those soliders are about to burn this place to the ground. It isn't safe.'

Barnabas and Stentor stared at him for a moment.

'Go!" Alexios shouted. ' I will meet you where we have stowed the ship. Hurry!'

Breaking out into a run, he turned to the direction of his rooms. Kian was close behind him. There was another sound from the horn, people in the palace began to scream.

'Don't listen to them!' Alexios said in reply. He heard the slap of Kian's sandals behind him.

Finally they reached their rooms. With shaking hands, Alexios opened the door. Kian dashed in front of him, gathering their supplies.

'Steady now,' Alexios said.

His heavy breastplate and greaves were stowed on the Adrestria. He would need to make do with just his sword for now.

'Ready?' he asked Kian. The boy was stoic, his jaw set. He gave a curt nod.

'Good,' Alexios said, patting him on the shoulder. 'Let's go.'

* * *

By the time the third horn had sounded, the soldiers in dark armour had made landfall. Hero was caught in the melee of courtiers and servants. 'Father!' she shouted over the din, 'Father!'

He was easy to spot, standing on a balcony, sword clutched in his hand, ready for battle. 'Father!' she shouted once more and then ran to meet him.

'Hero!' he called back, pushing through some of his own soldiers to meet her. He gathered her up into his arms. 'You shouldn't be here!'

'You cannot win against them!' she cried. 'There are too many!'

'I sent your sisters down into the caves to take shelter with the other women. If any of the men find you-'

'Did you not hear me? You cannot win!' she yelled once more, gathering his face between her two hands, trying to convince him of the fact.

A men wrenched her off, she kicked in the air.

'Hero, you must do as your father asks!' It was Myron.

'How dare you!' she said, pummeling his chest with her fist. 'Unhand me!'

'Hero,' he said softly, turning her around so they were facing one another. 'Hero, it is not safe here. You must go, please.'

'No,' she said, tears leaking out of her eyes. 'No, I can't leave him.'

Myron gently tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear. 'But you must. You must leave. Promise me.'

'Come with me,' she pleaded.

'My place is here, with the other Cyrenites. We will defend your home Hero. Promise me you will go,' he said.

She closed her eyes, she could not bear to look on his face.

'Promise me,' he asked one more time. She nodded.

* * *

It was only open sea ahead of them.

Eudora felt her stomach churn with terrible anticipation. The Daughters of Chronos were said to be a shadowy group- one that could bend time and reality. She had heard stories that the members would creep around villages at night, stealing newborn girls to raise as priestesses of their order. Not one of them knew her own origin; her fellow cult members were her only family.

'I have never been to Ogygia, but I have heard it spoken often enough in stories,' Kassandra mentioned as she steered their craft.

'Indeed,' Eudora added. It was difficult for her not to use her hands when she spoke. The sound of her voice was still foreign to her. She was surprised by how soft it was, how she did not have to work hard to produce enough sound. She touched her fingers to her lips once more.

'Are you going to tell me?' asked Kassandra.

Eudora looked over at her, cocking her head.

Kassandra smiled. 'Why you now have a voice through which you can speak to me.'

Eudora had been wondering that herself. 'If I tell you, you will think me strange and unnatural.'

'I already find you strange and unnatural,' Kassandra said. 'The look of you has changed as well.'

Eudora had not peered in a glass since the night on Aegina, but she felt different. It was as though she were walking through the world heavier. She'd been wretchedly seasick on the skiff as well, only being able to take small bites of bread and wine.

One day, when Kassandra had pulled into a port to fetch supplies, she looked over the boat to see her reflection. Though the water was murky, she could see that her hair had darkened to a muddy honey colour. Her face and arms were also dusted in freckles and was sunburned. Strips of white flesh were already peeling off of her shoulders.

She had no idea how many days they had been at sea either. The skiff was small. They had barely enough room for supplies and their money was dwindling. Eudora had been able to procure some drachmae from bartering her silver bangle. She was sure that the god would not mind now that she had gone and impulsively given up her maidenhead.

'I know he had you,' Kassandra said. 'I knew it from the moment I saw him look at you on the Adrestria; that he wanted you, I mean. All wide-eyed and wondering, sneaking glances at you. All men are fools, but my brother is, especially.'

'I am now out of holy favour, I suppose. Our order expected us to not know men.'

'And now you do,' Kassandra said.

Eudora only nodded.

'I've known men. But I prefer women. If you ever get around to deciding to try again-'

'No,' Eudroa said quickly. 'No there can be none of that. I must prepare myself for the trials with the Daughters of Chronos.'

'Don't you worry, I am not interested in tasting what my brother has already had to drink,' she said with a wink.

Eudora could feel herself blushing, her already ruddy cheeks blooming bright red.

'My goodness you still blush like a maid. I suppose he wasn't thorough enough,' the warrior-woman added, chuckling to herself.

'Let me steer for a little while,' Eudora suggested, desperately trying to change the subject.

Kassandra waited until Eudora's hand was on the rudder to let go. She loosed her bedroll and placed an old shirt over her head, blocking out the midday sun.

'Keep us close to the shoreline,' she commanded, voice slightly muffled by the linen. 'Our little boat could not handle larger waves. It might be worth putting a word with Apollo, even if he is cross with you.

If a larger ship catches us to us, we are doomed.'


End file.
